The Artist in Salzburg
by AsianCutie93
Summary: AU, Prussia is an artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork. RATING CHANGED!
1. The First Encounter

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. This story takes place in Austria, please forgive my inaccuracy because I only visited Austria for about twelve days and that was about four years ago. I am writing based on my horrible memory.  
2. Austria's parents are named after the last emperor and empress of Austria, in case you were wondering.  
3. Austrailia to my knowledge doesn't have an official name, so his name in this fanfic is Liam Brown.  
4. Monaco to my knowledge doesn't have an official name, so her name in this fanfic is Clarice Bonnefoy and she is France's little sister.  
5. Belgium to my knowledge doesn't have an official name, so her name in this fanfic is Anais Jansen.  
**

Chapter 1

Another day of traveling two hours and forty minutes to Salzburg at six in the morning, but it is worth it for I felt it much easier to work outdoors in that city than in my home in Vienna.

My home is too small and restricting for me. I live in a small condo in Vienna that is less than a thousand square feet in total. Naturally not being a very clean person, my bedroom wasn't a tidy room. My bed is never made in an orderly fashion. I always thought it was just going to get ruffled and bunched up again once I slept, so why try to make it pretty? I didn't care that my cream colored comforter looked like a crumpled tissue. The only reason that I wished to be cleaner was sometimes it would get annoying to see my pillows laying astray on the floor in the morning because I kicked them off while I was asleep. But I always remember to set them on top of the mattress after I take a shower. Clothes laid on the floor of my bedroom just outside of the adjacent bathroom. Only when the pile had reached a height of about two feet from the floor did I bother to wash them. My nightstand also isn't clean. Random brushes of various sizes and charcoal pencils fill the drawers of the stand. On top of the nightstand is a journal, some pencils, and several photos of my younger brother and I doing different activities together such as playing football, baking, and drawing. The only thing that was tidy in my bedroom was my closet that held my brand name clothes for special events. Designer clothes that had such control in the fashion world such as Armani Collezioni, Burberry, Dolce and Gabbana, Hugo Boss, Salvatore Ferragamo, and Versace Collection, were the only things that I took care of, because they were given to me by friends and my younger brother Ludwig.

My living room wasn't as bad, probably because I didn't use it that much. There's a window that led to an escape ladder, that spiraled down to the street below. I always kept that window locked, not because I feared getting robbed but because my friends Francis and Antonio in the past had sneaked into my house through that window and ate most of the food in my fridge. It was quite irritating scraping food off my couch. I'm really attached to the couch for some reason. The tan leather couch is one of those pieces that looked out of place in my living room. My living room is my editing room. It contains several sculptures that I am working on and paintings that need to be sprayed and framed in order to preserve them. It looked like a disorganized art museum, but my couch is a reminder that it is home. The coffee table the same color as the couch, but there's a small pile of dirty dishes to wake up to. Usually I put them in the dish washer before my trip to Salzburg, but I didn't feel like following that little part in my routine.

The kitchen is an untouched part of my house. I barely used the oven and the stove. I think the only reason I have a need for such devices for when my friends came to visit and cook for me. The only thing that suffered from daily use in my kitchen was the microwave, fridge, and dishwasher. The fridge was picked out my Francis, and he chose it because it had "french doors" where the cooler was on the left and the refrigerator was on the right. The appliance was stainless steel and had black, rubber coverings on the handles to prevent my fingerprints getting on the device. My fridge was never full with food. There were some honey crisp apples, carrots, cantaloupes, and other fruits and vegetables that I would eat for snacks, microwaveable meals, and ice cream, but other than that, my fridge was empty. The microwave was made of the same stainless steel and would sometimes get dirty from use.

It was not a good environment for my creativity. I, Gilbert Beilschmidt, need something beautiful to get inspired. The one place I loved for that was Salzburg, Austria. There were many places to go in that town such as the Basilica of Pilgrimage Maria Plain and Hellbrunn Palace, but my favorite place was the Mirabell Garden and Park. I think it's because there were more places to hide people in the gardens than in the other places that I loved.

I stepped out of the train, now having finally arrived at my destination. It was steps away from the train station, not even three blocks. Still, with my large backpack with a blank canvas, a foldaway stool and stand for my canvas, a pencil, tubes of paint, and palette were quite heavy. I must have looked like a typical tourist who had packed too much stuff. I adjusted the straps, so that my left shoulder didn't have so much pressure on it. I had slept on it wrong and now there was a dull ache. Thankfully I was getting close, for I saw the Hohensalzberg Fortress and the Salzburg Dom Cathedral.

"Urgh, sometimes art can be quite a pain." I said to myself.

Finally I sat down in my usual spot in the garden, next to the statue of Hercules (Heracles is the correct name according to the Greeks). The bushes around the statue were trimmed hedges that were perfectly shaped. I breathed in the scent of the air and sighed. Cut grass and freshly bloomed roses filled my nostrils. I couldn't help another heavy sigh escape my lips, for being here in this place made my mind clear from the clutter of home. It is beauty that should always grace my presence. I propped my heavy bag onto the ground and first set up my stool. It was a little hard to get it out of the bag however, due to how full it was. It must have looked strange to not only seeing an albino man, but seeing him wrestling with a large, black bag and cursing at the object. Once I had conquered the task of getting it out, I extended the furniture's legs so that I could sit comfortably. I grabbed the canvas stand and adjusted it to the length I desired. It was set a little higher than my stool so that it was at the same height as my arms. Drawing and painting for several hours was actually much more stressful on the body one would think, so it is best to make sure to make it as comfortable and painless as possible. Soon I was ready and started penciling in preparation for the painting.

I decided that I was going to do a modern art painting with people wearing crab hats and lobster mittens. All the people would be those snotty aristocrats that were always in the news for doing nothing. They would all be in their heavy makeup, large accessories, and funny clothes. The thought made me laugh and I immediately began to work. All the penciling was easy for me, for I had been doing this for over fifteen years. The preparation only took an hour to do, and soon I was painting. So far I had painted a woman with navy blue skin, dark green lips, and aquamarine hair. I was trying to make the lobsters and crabs more cohesive. The people and the background behind them were going to have cool colors such as blues, greens, and purples, while the lobsters and crabs were their natural red. From far away, it would look like a simple, oceanic painting but up close would be the creative idea that was in my head. I want to evoke some sort of reaction or emotion in my piece, for if an artist cannot do that than he is a terrible artist.

As I was finishing my work, I heard the irritating sound of a couple laughing. I sighed, but I knew I couldn't do anything. This was a park that was open to the public. But if I could, I would kick them out because only awesome people like me should be allowed in such a place.

Another fit of laughter. I was annoyed and turned to see what they were doing that was so joyous.

It was a man and woman clinging together, probably enjoying some sort of corny joke.

They looked like a rich couple due to their attire. The woman looked to be about five foot, nine inches tall, but she is wearing heels so I could have been off by an inch or two. Her eyes from the distance looked to be a dark green, the same color as some of the bushes that surrounded the garden. Her bangs were in the way, but I could tell that she had a heart shaped face, a shape that was very feminine. High cheek bones and a slightly pointed chin made her not only attractive, but approachable and friendly. Her slim figure also helped, and her small waist made a beautiful hourglass shape that everyone desired in a woman. The girl's long, brunette hair draped her back and flowed down to her skinny waist as well, bringing even more attention to her lovely asset. I don't know if she was the type of girl who liked to match things or she loved the dress, but she wore a green dress that was almost the same shade of green as her eyes. The neckline was a V-neck which showed off her ample bosom and the rest of the dress was fitted to her body nicely down to the knee. Due to my friendship with Antonio, visiting many of Spanish man's fashion shows, and the sheen that the dress had in the sunlight, the dress is probably a satin or a silk material.

I was instantly attracted to her. So much so that I could feel the heat of my body concentrating in my cheeks. It probably made my face look bright red like an apple. To calm myself down, I decided to see the man that was lucky to get such a beautiful woman.

Her companion looked to be the perfect description of a wealthy aristocrat. The kind that looks like he has the whole world at his fingertips. The kind I hate. He has wavy hair that was dark brown, almost black. Unlike France's waves, his waves are delicate and framed his face that made him a pretty-boy type of handsome. I never found glasses to be attractive, but the thin metal frames seemed to accent the man's face. His eyes are violet, an unusual color that I've only seen in two people in my entire life, but his eyes are a true violet that one would see in a rainbow. The color so pure that it was hard to believe it was natural. The man is a bit thinner than I am, but he had broad shoulders for his petite body. He wore a crisp white shirt that had a decorative jabot. Like his glasses, the jabot accented the simple shirt and its clean lines. Over that, he had a dark indigo jacket that was fitted just as the woman's dress, and slick, black trousers that went made a straight line from the hip down to his feet.

She was too good for him. To me, he looks like just another rich boy who wants a hot trophy wife to show off. I don't know why, but I could just feel that she was more than that.

I returned to my painting, finishing it with my initials in black paint on the bottom. I smirked at my masterpiece. Who knows what museum will want this lovely creation? Maybe Leopold Museum or MUMOK, but I will decide on that later.

"That is a lovely painting, quite amusing too." A feminine voice said from my right. The lovely woman from afar was right beside me. It was then that I saw on her left hand was an large, diamond engagement ring. A simple princess cut that was probably over seven carats. Yeah, the boyfriend was rich all right.

"Thank you lovely woman. It's nice to get a compliment from someone like you." I'm suave, what can I say? She looked at me with closer examination and her eyes brightened up.

"You're Gilbert Beilschmidt! The new artist that they compare to the great Salvador Dali." Her recognition made me estatic. I glanced at her companion, expecting some sort of jealousy or any other reaction from the man. There was nothing. He held no interest at all. In fact, he stared off bored, looking at the Hercules statue with eyes glazed. What an irritating bastard.

Suddenly I remembered his identity. The man's name is Roderich Edelstein, son of a wealthy duke named Charles Edelstein and his wife Zita. Ever since he had turned eighteen though, he had been in the press for more than his millions. The boy has an arranged marriage to a girl from a prominent family, Elizaveta Hedervary, but he was sleeping with anything that moved. Heck, Francis' boyfriend Arthur Kirkland, a journalist, had caught the man with Liam Brown, Clarice Bonnefoy, Anais Jansen, and even one of his best friends Francis Bonnefoy! Too bad that the list didn't end with four people. There was Antonio Carriedo (apparently his best friends liked aristocrats), Berwald Oxenstierna, Tino Vanaimoinen, Eduard von Bock, Heracles Karpusi, and many others. Heck, even Arthur Kirkland, the journalist that he recently became friends with, had slept with Edelstein a couple of times. I didn't know what was more amazing, the supposed stamina that the young man possessed or that he was out of bed enjoying the sunlight. It was different seeing the wealthy man with a shirt on for once. My smirk got wider and I finally realized that this girl was the one who stuck through all ten years of public affairs and humiliating scandals. She probably actually believed that crap about him being finally serious about her and thought him not having an affair for four months was a sign that he changed.

I thought of a little something to entertain myself and see if I could get a reaction from the duke's son.

"Yes, I am Gilbert Beilschmidt. I'm glad that you recognize me." I was a little louder this time, to try to get the rich boy's attention. Still nothing. He didn't acknowledge my existence!

"Tell me my dear, do you want my painting for free?" I said, trying to act like gentleman to get him to notice. This got his attention.

"That is quite unnecessary, I am able to afford it for her if Elizaveta desires it."

"Oh Roderich, don't be so harsh. He isn't doing any harm." She was so kind. It was going to be hard to do this, but I knew it was worth it.

"Yes my dear, you may have the painting. It is only gratis however, only if you dump that cheating fiance of yours and see me more often." Now I watch my magic and wait. Oh I couldn't wait to see that Edelstein guy blow up.

"_How dare you!_" She yelled and slapped me across the face. I was so shocked that I fell off my stool. My butt hit the ground and I winced in pain. I looked up to quite a scary sight, especially since the young woman was so pleasant before. Elizaveta's face was quickly turning from pale cream to hot, fiery red. Her arms that were slender were now bulging and her hands looked as if they were ready to choke the life out of me. The bottom half of her dress was threatening to rip from the tense muscles in her thighs. She stalked closer to me and leaned down. There were veins that tensed and almost popped out of her neck. It wasn't the reaction I expected. Usually women acted much more positively to my flirting. But I guessed I deserved it. After all, if a girl is willing to deal with a man having twenty-one documented and well known affairs before they are even married must be in love.

"He's not like that anymore! He promised me." She stomped off, her heels sometimes getting caught in the plush lawn of the garden. I turned to see if Roderich had the same reaction, but he just looked at me with a strange look. Curiosity? It was hard to tell, but it made me feel uncomfortable. I stood up and sat on my stool, trying to ignore his stare but it was getting annoying seeing his shadow cast over my artwork.

"What do you want priss?"

"How much for the painting?" He asked. It was strange how he lost that snobbish tone in his voice so quickly. Also, why would he want a painting from an artist that upset his future wife?

"It's not for sale unless you have five thousand euros on-" Before I could finish my sentence, a wad of money was thrown on my lap. I took the money out of it's clip and found out that he had indeed paid five thousand euros at once. His eyes didn't focus on the painting he just bought, but me. What game was he playing?

"Whatever, here you go you pansy." And handed him the painting. His expression didn't change.

"I like stubborn people. I think it is why I have such admiration for Elizaveta."

"Okay..." What was he getting at?

"I think I will be seeing more of you, artist."

"My name is Gilbert Beilschmidt pansy. Remember that name." I commanded.

"I'm sure I will," and he walked away.

End of Chapter 1

Yay! My first Prussia/Austria fanfic. But um, it's a little odd to make Austria such a... well, (because there are no better words) a man whore. I want to try to see if this kind of Roderich is too OOC. Plus, I am not in the mood to write more of Russia/America right now.

Read and Review please!


	2. Another day in Mirabell

My muse is a strange thing. I keep thinking about Prussia/Austria so I had to write a second chapter now. By the way, all the settings in this story are actually places in Austria. If you ever get the chance, I hope you visit all of them because they are amazing! Seriously a beautiful country, maybe that's why Austria's so handsome! XD

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. This story is set in modern times. Yes, there are dukes still around in modern times. Sorry if that was confusing! I thought that the mentioning of MUMOK would have been enough since it is a famous modern art museum in Austria.  
2. MUMOK and ****Leopold****Museum**** are famous modern art museums in ****Vienna**** that are known to display work of local artists. Probably should have put that in the notes in the last chapter.**

Chapter 2

I took my seat on the train as I always do. There were very few people at the station during this time, so I had my pick of the seats. Of course, since in this route there was nothing but trees, it didn't matter where you sat.

_"Gilbert dear, remember to bring something for MAK's Contemporary show. It's important to me you know."_

Urgh, I sometimes didn't like that French man.

My friend Francis usually didn't care about anything other than Arthur and his looks. Although he prides himself on wavy and silky hair, it wasn't naturally like that. I learned when I was that guy's roommate that his vanity truly knew no bounds. The French man grew his hair to the point that it was a little past his shoulders, making sure that when he styled it, it would be just slightly above his shoulders. Once it was at the desired length, he would ask his favorite hair stylist to layer his hair with choppy and uneven lengths. His vanity continued further, but washing his hair with expensive shampoo and generous amounts of conditioner, not caring that he spent almost fifty euros every three weeks on those products alone. He then used curl cream when his hair was damp after taking a shower, and once it was applied all over he would twirl sections of strands around his fingers to give it that sexy wave that he desired. Finally, when his hair dried either naturally or by blow dryer, he would open a can of texture spray and make sure to generously apply it to all of his hair.

His hair wasn't the only thing that he took care of. The French man when not at his job at the museum, he was always trying to keep his body in shape. There were times when Francis would skip lunch in order to go to the gym. Similar to his hair routine, his time on the treadmill, free weights, and core exercises were all proportional to each other. It is kind of odd for him to behave in such a way. The way he took care of himself to me screamed insecurities, but the way he acted was nothing like that at all.

Still, even with his odd quirks, Francis was a good friend and could be serious at times. He loves all forms of art and wished to enlighten everyone he could about it. He is an impressive body of knowledge when it came to art. Every time he talked about it, his eyes would have a special glint in them. It wasn't mischievous or scheming, like the usual twinkles in his eyes, but it was true passion. He was someone unique, and I was glad to have met him.

Unfortunately because he shared my passion, it was getting rather annoying having to deal with his little reminders. The show wasn't for another three weeks! Still, I guess I couldn't blame the guy. There weren't a lot of famous artists in Austria, other than this young boy named Feliciano Vargas and myself. Plus, I was the only modern artist that was gaining some sort of fame and following. Sure, Vargas dabbled in modern art, and the pieces he made when he did were interesting but his talent focused on the classics. It was probably his Italian heritage that influenced the Vargas, but who am I to determine that? I had never met the boy. All I knew was that he was an artist that was mentioned in the newspapers for elevating realism again.

I sighed, not wanting to think anymore and decided to play with the different materials that were in my backpack today. Today I have pine wood in the shape of rectangular prisms at various lengths, widths, and thicknesses. I tapped two pieces of wood together, enjoying the soft clanking sound they made. There are one and two inch long nails in order to stick the wooden blocks together, for I never liked the idea of using super glue in art. It sounded tacky to me for some reason. In the sack was also a hammer to pound things, a power drill to make holes for the nails to go into, two screwdrivers to drive the nails into the wood, a small wood carving knife to make delicate patterns or chip away wood, a brush to push the scraps onto the ground, and a pencil to draw the patterns I want to embed in the wood. It wasn't as bulky as the canvas and the other supplies, but it was definitely much heavier because of the hammer and wood.

Clank. Clank.

Perhaps it is because I am an artist or I am easily amused, for thirty minutes passed without my knowledge. The train was going to arrive in Salzburg in about twenty-two minutes. I pushed my materials back into my black carry-on and readied for my arrival.

It was nice being in the familiar Mirabell Garden and Park, in my usual spot next to the Hercules statue. I sat on the floor, for I wasn't worried about having dirt on my ripped jeans. Soon I was pulling out pieces of wood, drilling holes into them, and nailed them together, arranging them so that they formed a basic shape of a chair. The chair had a wide back, a simple flat surface for a seat, and legs for support.

Unlike most chairs, mine was constructed to have three legs that if connected by a line, would be the vertices of a triangle. I didn't like that they were even in length, so I used my wood carving knife to furious chip about two inches off the leg that was on the back and to the right. Still unsatisfied with the chair's appearance, I tried to think about what to do next. Usually, I just let my creativity flow and just erase anything I didn't like. The bad thing about wood was that once you have made a mistake, you couldn't correct it. I picked up my pencil, sketching various lines from the bottom of the front leg to about five inches up at small increments, about a fourth an inch between each line. I sliced the first fourth an inch to test the waters. I examined my creation and I realized that I wanted the front part to dip lower than the back. I sliced off about four inches off the front leg. Soon the chair was slumped downward and to the right side, making it look as I desired. Although I mostly worked with the media of paints and charcoal pencils, I'm still entertained by making these kinds of abstract art.

The pencil was picked up again. I wanted to make several geometric patterns and holes into the chair so that I could rest various objects in them. Several circles of different diameters, curved lines, and organic shapes were carved into the back and seat. The only thing that I was missing was the holes. It was hard to control the carving tool to not slip or make wider holes, but with my skilled and steady hands it was perfect.

"The only thing I need now is a coating of oil based polyurethane to make is glossy, and it will be awesome." I said to myself. As I was packing my things to return home, I heard the footsteps of another person. I ignored it, knowing the garden was a popular tourist and local attraction and continued my clean up. I decided to leave my wood chips and shavings behind, for I knew someone in the Mirabell Park maintenance crew was going to sweep it up. Once I had packed all the things in my bag, I grabbed my sculpture and sighed in relief. I am done. I was about to leave when I suddenly heard that voice.

"How much for the sculpture?" It's Roderich Edelstein. What was the coincidence of running into his presence again?

"It's not for sale; didn't the duke ever teach you that not everything in life has a price?" He didn't seem to get my joke.

"I want the sculpture. Name your price," His voice, although smooth like a fine wine, has an underlying threat in it. How interesting...

"It's still not for sale specs. It's for that Contemporary show at MAK. Francis Bonnefoy, the curator, is a friend of mine." His left eyebrow rose. It seems the Edelstein's eldest child remembered his affair with the curator.

"Is that why you talk to me in that manner? If I have upset your friend it is none of your business."

"Oh no, I talk to you this way because you're not awesome enough to be near me. Also, for your information, Francis had moved on a while ago. He's very happy too." The bastard smiled. What is wrong with him?

"People like you make the world very amusing." There was a spark in his eyes. It made his eyes almost a neon violet color in the sunlight. I shook my head slightly, trying to see if I was seeing things. I stared into his eyes again, but it was the same as I saw them before. A purple that was so foreign that it sent a shiver down my spine, but I didn't show it because I didn't want to give that pansy the satisfaction. But I couldn't stop the questions that were flooding my head. Was this aristocrat actually flirting with me? Here in this public place? It was no wonder that paparazzi followed him as best as they could, the guy couldn't be committed to any relationship if it meant to save his life.

"Hm... is it wise to act like this Edelstein? After all, haven't you shamed your family enough?" I wanted to see him react. I needed a response. But just as it was two days ago when I saw him, he didn't do change anything at all. How can he just stand their as I insult him? How can someone be so unmoving and cold?

"Whatever, I'll just tell my friend Arthur Kirkland, Francis' boyfriend, about it. He's the journalist that's caught you with your shirt off and with a new lover on your lap four times. Might as well make it a fifth but this time, your victim will be able to preserve their dignity. Plus, this is the perfect opportunity of damage your reputation even more than the other affairs. After all, didn't you say that you were going to be faithful to that fiance of yours now? What do you think she'll do when she finds out that you are on the hunt again? Trust me; it's not going to be at all pretty for you pansy." I could feel victory flowing into my veins. I had the power in this struggle. His eyes were no longer an intense color they were before. But it was disappointing. Instead of lust being replaced with anger or fear, they had confusion. It was the same confusion he had given me two days ago when his fiance was with him.

"Elizaveta is used to such behavior. Why does her opinion matter on that subject?"

"Why are you even asking that? Are you acting stupid on purpose? Of course your fiance's opinion matters. This is the woman you are going to spend the rest of your life with. Don't you care whether or not she was unhappy?" I thought of him as cold, but this was just evil. The woman, although I had met her briefly, seemed like an amazing person. Why would he not care about her so much?

"I didn't choose to be with Elizaveta. My family is one of tradition and it is traditional of our kind of have arranged marriages."

"Just because you didn't choose her doesn't mean she doesn't deserve your disrespect! She's not some-"

"I will see you at the MAK Contemporary show artist. It is not my taste, but I will be there." Roderich turned and walked away.

"You can't treat me like your girlfriend Edelstein!" But he acted like he didn't hear it at all. Soon he turned the corner and could no longer be seen.

"Argh, I hate that guy!" I yelled, my lungs burning from the intensity. I didn't care that people were looking at me and stormed off.

I couldn't get that annoying aristocrat out of my mind. Even as I sat on the train and waited for it to depart, I could still see that bastard's face. The stupid flick of hair that stood straight up and the soft waves that framed his face were in my mind. All of those strands perfectly combed and yet relaxed looking at the same time. Those abnormal eyes both in color and emotion were still looking at me. Especially the way they turned a peculiar neon violet when his curiosity was aroused. God he was arrogant. The man was probably using the same tactics that he used to get his sluts... okay; maybe I shouldn't call them that since some of them are my friends.

"Argh, I'm going to call Westie." I said as I pulled out my cell phone. My brother Ludwig was on speed dial and soon I could hear the phone ring.

Ring! Ring!

"Hello?" It's Ludwig.

"Hey Westie, how are you doing?"

"Brother, my name is Ludwig, not Westie. Must you call me by that nickname?"

"But Westie, that's your name to me. You loved those Westie puppies so much when you were young. It was so cute!" I could almost feel the heat of his blushing from the other side of the phone, either that of that was a large dose of radiation.

"I guess I can't stop you. Never could stop you from doing anything." He grumbled.

"Hahaha, that's right Westie. Now, I need to vent little brother. Today is a not-so-awesome day."

"What is wrong? Did the Leopold Museum not accept your latest masterpiece?" He sounded concerned. But it wasn't new, for my little brother was always concerned about my life, because of how rocky an artist's career can get.

"Ah no, they loved it like everything I do. They know that everything I do is awesome. Unfortunately, I forgot that Salvador Dali did a sculpture piece similar to my painting. The museum was concerned about it being similar to this Dali piece since people keep comparing me to him, but they took it anyway. Still, I can't believe I didn't remember that piece when I made that painting. It's one of my favorites. Hahaha, you see that Dali guy actually made a telephone that looks like a lobster."

"Well, at least Leopold Museum doesn't seem to care. But why are you upset?"

"I'm not upset. I'm pissed off because of this stupid, wealthy dude. Thinks he can just throw his money around and use people-"

"Gilbert, please, tell me who is bothering you?" Westie interrupted. I guess he didn't want to hear me rant on for hours about some guy.

"It is that duke's son, Roderich Edelstein. He tried to buy a piece I made in Mirabell Park, but I don't want to sell it to him. It's for Francis' show, but he didn't like the answer no." I explained. God, my blood started to churn after saying that guy's name.

"Ah, yes, he is not one to accept the answer no. It excites him to do even more..." It sounded as if he knew personally.

"Westie, did... did you have an affair with that bastard?" I asked. I didn't want to sound angry or alarmed, but I couldn't help it. This was my baby brother and I didn't want to think about the thought that he was possibly a victim of that Casanova. If that Roderich Edelstein ever touched my Westie and broke his heart, gods I don't know what I'm going to do. Should I cut off his balls and shove them down his throat? Another option would be to crush his face in by bashing it against the wall thirty times. Now I hate him even more. The aristocrat better watch out for there is nothing worse than a protective, older sibling's fury.

"No brother, no! I had to do business with his company. You know I'm not exactly a person who seeks out relationships, and why would I choose someone who I knew was going to be engaged? Sometimes I don't understand how you come to such logic..."

"Hahaha, oh Westie, you know your older, awesome brother Gilbert loves you. The love of an elder sibling is irrational to the point of madness. It's a natural thing." I laughed.

"Yeah, I guess that is true. But Mr. Edelstein isn't a bad person. Granted he had my assistants always running around fetching him tea. Still, I can't believe that he would want to buy a something from you."

"What do you mean? You're big brother's a master artist!" I shouted. Some commoners on the train shushed at me but I disregarded them.

"I am not insulting you Gilbert. But Roderich's taste is in the classics. His family had fled to America to escape the Nazis during World War II and had all their artworks stolen. Rembrandts, Seurats, Van Goghs, and murals on their walls and ceiling were all taken. There's probably more but I couldn't remember all the names that he listed off. When they came back to Austria and saw what happened, they immediately began a special project to retrieve all the artwork. Even after sixty years, they still haven't gotten back a third of their collection."

"Huh, that is strange. Why would he want to spend money on modern art when he still has to find his family's old stuff?" I asked.

"It is exactly what I was thinking. Be careful around him brother. Your fame has been rising and I don't want your reputation damaged being associated with him."

"Don't worry Westie, I despise him. Trust me; I don't want anything to do with him."

End of Chapter 2

Ah, another chapter so quickly. But I update irregularly so don't expect them to come as quickly as this time. Please read and review, I will try to respond to all of you nice reviewers.

Also, sorry for the short chapters! I don't know why it isn't as long a chapters as my other stories, but this is just the way this fic is flowing right now.


	3. Albertina's Hare

Ah god good, my muse is on a roll here! O_O Seriously, I can't get this couple out of my head. Hopefully it slows down so that I can update my Russia/America fanfics. Those things haven't been updated in forever. One of them only has one chapter to go and the other, well, the next chapter is going to be major character death so it's kind of hard to write that one. Sigh. But I'm really into Prussia/Austria right now. I blame the really good Prussia/Austria fanfic "Please Don't Read the Verdict" by TheFifteenthMoon for this Prussia/Austria craze... really, if you want a good fanfic about those two, read that story. Freaking amazing!

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. Albertina used to be the largest residential palace of the Hapsburgs that is now converted into a museum.  
2. ****Spain**** is replacing Marc Jacobs as Creative Director of Louis Vuitton (sorry Marc, I love you though).  
3. In Spanish, another way to call someone albino is "star-child" because their hair and skin is white like the stars.**

Chapter 3

I didn't want to risk seeing the duke's son again in Salzburg, so I decided that I am going to change my routine today. Instead of going to Mirabell Garden and Park in Salzburg, I'll go to Albertina in Vienna today. Even though it had already been five days since I last saw that cocky bastard, I don't want it to happen again. Besides, this would be a great opportunity to look at the architecture and works of art at the Albertina to get inspiration. I'll take photos of the ones that are the most alluring to me. When I'm done, I'll go home and examine the photos more carefully. Then I'll chose which ones I'll use to help me with my painting.

My plan was simple and it should work.

I lived a little far from the old royal palace, but I didn't mind the walk. For one thing, traffic can get pretty horrible in Austria in the morning and it would take longer by taxi than walking the distance from my condominium. Also, since I was just going to bring my digital camera, my load was light today.

I grabbed my wallet, making sure it had enough cash to pay for admission fee to get into the museum. I liked to pay the museums in cash, probably because I was a fellow artist. I remembered that I needed to inspect my place before I left; making sure that everything was in its rightful spot. My living room other than the randomly placed sculptures and paintings was clean. The MAK show piece was sitting on the matching table with all the gloss in place. I made sure that all the electronics except for the fridge were switched off and I was ready to leave. I turned the key and locked the door to my home. I shook the knob to make sure that the lock was secured and I rushed out of the building, grinning with excitement over the various things I wanted to take a picture of.

Business men and women stared at me. I guess I must have looked a little unusual in comparison to the morning rush. All of them were wearing their boring, work attire. I smiled. Those losers probably worked in a little cubicle, not knowing the freedom and excitement of controlling your own hours and wage. It was quite a hilarious image. They made in my mind, what appeared to be a sea of black suits, so dense that I didn't know where one suit ended and another began. Under their jackets were crisp shirts either in white, french blue, or gray, so I stood out even more with my orange, T-shirt. All their shirts were tucked into their pants, making weird creases on the ironed dress shirts. Most of the pants they wore were trousers. Their trousers' style, were similar to Edelstein's, for they were straight legged from the hip and pitch black in color. I sighed, angry at myself for thinking about that pansy but I continued to observe them. Both genders had on dark colored loafers, comfortable dress shoes in order to be appropriate and dull for work. I really did stand out in my blue Addidas sneakers and True Religion jeans. I wanted to laugh, but sadly, my laugh is so awesome that they won't be able to stand it.

"Aren't you a little old to go to school?" One of them asked. It was a simple man to my left.

"Che, I'm not in school. I'm a famous artist you commoner. You should be bowing to me, not asking me stupid questions." I heart him saying something about me being an arrogant jackass, but his opinion was invalid in my mind.

The Albertina is one of the few places that I love in Vienna. The large building could be described with the same word that could be used to describe the Austrian royalty, and that's luxurious. It was a grand, white building, with many windows to allow as much light in as possible. The windows are all evenly apart, making the walls of the building seem endless on the already large building. The windows have the same golden detail, but due to the aging and lack of care by maintenance, those things were fading. There was a metallic, strange platform that jutted out, over the main entrance, and led the visitors' eyes to what lay outside. For outside of the entrance of the building was a large statue of a man on a horse, which looked to be almost as old as the residential palace. Its details were also exposed to the elements, but because of the material that made the sculpture it was hard for it to corrode. I am pretty sure that the man on the animal was Napoleon, but I wasn't sure. No one had ever admired me for having a great memory.

I walked in, knowing exactly what I wanted to see. The most important piece was Albrecht Durer's _A Young Hare_ for my painting. I traveled the long hallways, snapping a few pictures of a Picasso and an avant garde Russian piece. Even though I knew I wasn't going to use it in my piece, I took a picture Monet's _Water Lily Pond_ painting. It was one of my favorite pieces since I was in college. The reason I did, was because there modern art piece by Roy Lichtenstein that was a metal sculpture to look like the painting with a pop art twist to it. It made my heart feel lifted thinking about the way the sculpture, even though it was made of heavy metal, bowed and curved with ease like the bridge in the painting. The holes drilled into the metallic surfaces allowed the viewer to look through the bridge on the other side, not just at the bridge. It was a representation of how you will see where your path will go, but you have to be brave enough to cross or do some things you might not like.

As I was approaching Durer's hare, I gulped. I dashed behind a close wall and poked my head out just a bit so that I could still see.

Antonio, Francis, and Arthur are chatting with that Edelstein and Edelstein's fiance. Why would they want to be talking to that asshole? Whatever they were saying, it sounded like Francis was very excited. So much so, that Arthur was hitting him in the shoulders. The English man was probably embarrassed over my friend's behavior and I have to say... I can't blame him. The way Bonnefoy moved his hips and his wild hand gestures were a bit excessive and flamboyant. I chuckled when I saw that the French man for once dodged his boyfriend's punches, but that only seemed to make Arthur angrier at him.

However, Antonio was able to hold back the spiky haired blonde, for he got behind Arthur and held his arms behind his back. I kept my laughter quiet, but it was getting harder. My friends were always a good time waiting to happen.

Suddenly Edelstein grabbed his girlfriend's hand and shook their hands good bye. I hid behind a sculpture, making sure that Roderich and Elizaveta didn't see me. I don't know why my heart was pounding, but I couldn't make it stop. It wasn't until the couple disappeared down another hallway did I manage to convince myself to stop hiding. Slowly with each step until I was in the middle of the hallway.

"Gilbert! How are you my albino friend?" Antonio asked. The tan man is always dressed nicely, probably because he not only a fashion designer of his brand _Te Amo_, but also Creative Director of _Louis Vuitton_. If he wasn't dressed sharply, he probably would have gotten fired for embarrassing Louis Vuitton. But today wasn't that day, for Antonio was dressed in a red, velvet jacket that hugged his body's curves. If anyone else were to wear the black, ruffled, plaid shirt with red, blue, yellow, and green in it, It would have looked strange and out of place. Somehow the Spanish man's confidence was the thing needed to pull off such a design. Instead of having black trousers like most people, Antonio works a heather gray colored pant. Even though it was another neutral color, because it wasn't black, it made the rest of his outfit stand out even more.

"Good Antonio, I was just taking some pictures to get some inspiration for my new painting I am working on." I answered. The Spanish man's emerald eyes grew brighter.

"Oh I know the Albertina is absolutely fabulous! I tell Romano that all the time, but he seems so unimpressed." I was shocked. Who is Romano?

"Antonio, Gilbert doesn't know about Romano yet remember? You were going to tell him today at three, the time he usually comes back from his train ride to Salzburg." Arthur chimed in.

"Yes, tell Gilbert the good news." Francis said, hugging Arthur from behind. The English man grew humiliated and his whole face turned pink, but he didn't protest to the affection.

"Oh my albino friend I am ecstatic! I am in love! Deeply, deliriously, wonderfully in... Love..." Antonio paused to sigh in a dreamy manner. It was similar to high school girls. "He is so handsome Gilbert. Even the strands of hair out of place that make a single curl are absolutely adorable, and I love how serious he is about everything. I've become so inspired by this man that I'm now making an entire collection of bags for Louis Vuitton in collaboration with his younger brother, Feliciano. You've heard of him, yes?"

"Uh, yeah. He's that Italian artist that is into realism. I've read about him in the papers... wait, is he older or younger than Feliciano." The only reason I asked was because Feliciano was twenty-three and all of us here were twenty-eight. If Romano was younger, the age gap could be quite awkward. Not only that, but the Spanish man had fame and the younger ones are more than likely gold diggers. Sure Antonio is handsome, but that won't stop someone from wanting his millions. Plus, if Antonio were to be caught in public with a younger boy, even though it would be legal, that kind of information could damage his reputation. After all, many know just how fickle the fashion world can be.

"He is older. Actually he is only two years younger than us!" It was amazing to see the Spanish man so excited.

My stomach growled. I remembered that I forgot to eat breakfast before going to Albertina.

"Why don't we go out to lunch to celebrate anyways? It is a joyous occasion after all. In fact, finding love is more joyous than Thanksgiving and Christmas combined." Francis said.

"It's only eleven, so why don't we go to eat at Griechenbeisl in the old part of town? We're already in the first district so we might as well get something close by." Arthur suggested. It was funny that the man who couldn't cook to save his life was suggesting a restaurant.

"No, I don't want to go there. There are too many tourists there because it's supposedly the oldest restaurant and inn." Francis protested. But he got scared when Arthur glared at him. "Ah! Griechenbeisl it is then!"

Antonio and I laughed. It was hard to believe that those two were love in sometimes.

"Alright, I'm just going to take pictures of _The Young Hare_ by Durer and we can go." I said, walking past them and snipping as many shots as I could of the realistic rabbit. The hairs were so perfectly hashed on. The expressions on the animal's face were so true to its character. It looked as if I could touch the creature in the frame. I shook my head and took a last snap shot. I had a problem when it came to art. It is probably why I chose to be an artist in the first place. I can become so enchanted by a piece that I can lose my self in it. When I look at a piece, I am no longer where I am. I can no longer feel my surrounding or where I'm going. Once I have my eyes locked on something that touches me, I can feel my soul leave my body and feel all the moods and emotions in the art. There is no difference between the boundary that is my body and the boundary of the piece. I can feel my heart swell and I feel complete. It is strange, I know, but I can't stop myself. Thank goodness my friends were there and I didn't want to embarrass myself in front of them.

"Let's go!" I said, hiding my disappointment from them. They nodded and all of us left for an early lunch.

The walk was short since it was in the same area and surprisingly, there weren't as many people as usual. The place commonly was so full, that people appeared to be stacked on top of each other and almost touched the high ceilings. We were able to get a table within ten minutes, an amazing thing to accomplish with this restaurant.

"So tell us Gilbert, what were you doing at the Albertina? Don't you usually go to Salzburg's Mirabell Garden and Park for your inspiration? Why the change in schedule?" Francis asked. Arthur nodded, apparently also confused with the shift in my routine. I sighed. I didn't like lying to my friends, but I didn't want to bring up Roderich Edelstein in case any of them were still upset. Although they were all in different relationships, it would be awkward to talk about an ex. An ex that was known to be engaged to a beautiful young lady and yet humped anything that moved.

"Gilbert! Come on my little star-child, why are you being so quiet?" Antonio asked. I sighed again.

"Well, I don't know if you'll like it, but I met your guys' ex, Roderich two times in Mirabell Garden and Park. By the way, that guy is a jackass." They were silent for a minute.

"Really, did you do the horizontal tango him?" Francis asked.

"Francis, you should ask something like that with a little more tact. But Gilbert did you... um..." Arthur blushed, not being able to ask.

"No! Of course not! Not after what happened with you guys, I would never to that. No offense! But he's annoying..." I said, getting slightly angry remembering the aristocrat.

"How so? He was a gentleman with me." Antonio said. It was odd to see the tan man defend his ex lover. I can still remember the hurt look in his face when he told us that the duke's son broke up with him because the press found out about them. It really hurt to see him deal with that. Unlike Francis or Arthur, who understood that it was purely a sexual thing, Antonio actually cared about the wealthy man. He gave presents, swooned when he talked about him, and tried his best to look even more desirable. This was probably why I hated that guy. Antonio is a good guy and shouldn't ever be treated like that.

Thankfully his affair with Roderich was a year before he had accepted the job of Creative Director of Louis Vuitton.

"Maybe in your mind he was, but I see right through him. He thinks that by buying my art that I'll jump into his bed. Edelstein is so stupid. I'm doing well financially, better than most artists. I don't need his money," I paused to take a sip of water. "Besides, I feel bad for his fiance. She doesn't seem like a bad girl."

I could hear Francis chuckle.

"What?" I blurted out.

"Oh, she is a bad girl... well, maybe bad isn't the word, but she's naughty. I overheard Roderich's phone conversations with her. Apparently she asked him to videotape us when we do it for her to watch." Well that was interesting.

"What? That is ridiculous, Elizaveta isn't anything like that. Those are just rumors." Arthur reasoned.

"But it is true my love. She is a voyeur. But her love for Roderich is worth more than a couple of videos. Once she got a video, she told me to stay away from Roderich... I don't like making pretty, young women angry but I don't like being told what to do even more. I continued having sex with the man until the press caught us. I believe it was you who caught us, right Arthur?" Arthur blushed.

"You're the one who asked me out afterwards you frog."

"I know." Francis wiggled his eyebrows, making Arthur's blush a deeper red.

"But tell us everything that happened. Maybe you misinterpreted Roderich's gestures." Antonio said.

"Okay, the first time I met the duke's son was a week ago and I was painting in the Park. He had his fiance with him. His fiance recognized me and I recognized them as well. I joked that she should leave Roderich and see me, but she went berserk. Then she stormed off. Roderich gave me this weird look, bought my painting I just finished for five thousand euros and walked away. The second time was five days ago, and I was finishing that sculpture for the MAK show and he wants to buy it. I don't give it too him because it's for Francis' museum and then he gives me this weird look."

"What kind?" They asked at the same time.

"I don't know, his eyes were really radiant like they were neon lights-"

"Oh, he's interested in our famous artist!" Francis gasped. Arthur and Antonio nodded in agreement.

"How can you tell?"

"His eyes get like that when his interests in that area are... aroused." Antonio explained.

"Whatever, I don't care what that guy feels. By the way, you were all talking to him and his fiance. What was that about?" I asked.

"Oh, he is donating lots of money to the museum on the day of the Contemporary show. Now I know why he is doing that... all just to see our Gilbert all dressed up. How cute!" Francis gushed.

"Yeah, but Gilbert has to be careful." Arthur said.

"I'm not interested in him at all; you guys have nothing to worry about." I assured them.

"Ah, but that is always how it starts with Roderich. Don't be fooled. Some how, he will charm you into his bed…"

End of Chapter 3

Wow, I don't know why I'm able to write so quickly. I think I should slow down so that I can think about the story's progression more. Still... I really want to write what happens at the MAK Contemporary show! Ah...

Read and Review please! I'd love to see how you guys feel about this story.


	4. MAK disaster

Aw, I'm glad I'm convincing people who don't usually like this couple to give it a try! As for Austria's man-whoring... yeah, I don't know why, but I love it. But I think later in the fanfic people will grow to like him more. Since right now Austria kind of looks like a... well, he just looks bad right now.

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. There's Russia/America in this chapter! YAY!  
2. I had never been inside the MAK, just the outside. I will have inaccuracy with those details so I apologize!  
3. Once this story is complete, I will need to fix all the errors in this story. If someone would like to beta when I'm done, please let me know by either email, in a review, or through messaging.**

Chapter 4

"Do I really have to dress nicely Francis? I mean, I'm just an artist not a buyer." I said.

"Nonsense Gilbert dear, you have to look good for this show. Otherwise you won't be taken seriously and you will lose potential clients!" The French man sighed. I shrugged. No one ever went into art to make lots of money. Never in my life had I thought I was going to do so well in the field. I loved the feeling of pouring my soul into something and giving it to the world. Money is never a motive for me, and it never will.

"Gilbert, I will leave early so that I can set up your sculpture with the others. Please wear the clothes that I picked out. Who knows? You might catch more of Roderich's interest and maybe when you get tipsy, you'll let him take a free sample." The tone of his voice almost made me want to vomit. Seriously, was it a right of passage to sleep with that man or something?

"No thank you, I don't wish to have anything to do with that bastard." My friend just ignored my statement. The blonde grabbed the unusual chair I made and opened the door to leave.

"I'm leaving now Gilbert, and please, look decent-"

"Yeah, I know, just leave me alone. I'll be there on time, don't worry; I called for my brother to drive me. Now stop worrying and get going! After all, I already have Westie to worry about me like that."

"Get dressed quickly Gilbert." I heard the front door shut and I sighed in relief. Despite the personality I presented to my friends, I was actually a pretty modest person when it came to my body. It was probably because it was so pale and it glowed like a ghost.

I examined the clothes that Francis laid out for me to wear. He picked out my Polo Ralph Lauren dress shirt. It wasn't a bad looking shirt. It was light blue, but it had white and purple vertical stripes to make it less plain. The stripes are thin though, so that the shirt didn't clash with anything that was a bolder piece. The greatest thing about the designer dress shirt was how it felt. It felt smooth to the touch, for it was made with all natural cotton, and the shirt had a moderate collar, meaning the collar was long enough to be noticed, but it wasn't long enough to touch my chin. The thing was pretty nice considering it was a simple, button down shirt. But there were some reasons why I didn't like to wear it, even if it was an awesome shirt. Personally, I didn't care for long sleeved shirts, especially if the garment was form fitting. I think it was because it restricted the movement of my arms and no artist likes to be restricted.

My friend had also picked out a simple black tie, which is the same brand as the shirt. The only thing that was interesting about it was that it had a bunch of shields on it. The shields have inside them a white sword, Ralph Lauren's initials, and two golden colored lions. Usually I wore something more festive or interesting when it came to ties, but I think Francis didn't want me to look over done.

A Hugo Boss suit was laid out as well. It was a shade lighter than charcoal gray, but it had a strange sheen that I didn't know if it was natural or not. Antonio would probably say something about metallic thread being woven in with the other threads. The blazer is just as streamline and body hugging as the dress shirt Francis picked out. The jacket also had a deep neckline to making sure that the shirt underneath was visible. Because it was so form fitting, the jacket only needed three button closures. The buttons added a special touch to the blazer, for they had a golden spiral design. It wasn't a detail that was to be noticed from afar, but it was a good finishing touch when someone was close to the person. The pants were slim fitting trousers, meaning they tapered from the hip all the way down to the ankles. There wasn't any distracting pleating on the waist band; instead, there was only a single crease on each leg. The crease for some reason made the pants more professional, which was good since I wasn't exactly known for being appropriate.

"Well, I guess it's not so bad. Bonnefoy did pretty good." I said to myself.

I threw off my ragged T-shirt, letting it fall onto the pile on the floor. The old shirt should probably be thrown away, but I don't care about my appearance. I shivered as I put on the fresh clothes for they felt cool against my skin. Soon the only thing I needed were dress socks and shoes and I would be ready to go to the show.

I looked to see what time it was, to see I still had fifteen minutes before Ludwig would pick me up. I sat on my couch and sighed. There was less artwork in my living room because I sent twelve of them to be auctioned. The auction wouldn't be for another week, but at least I didn't have to deal with the mess.

A chime sounded from my clock. I turned to see it was seven.

For some reason when I looked at the minute hand on the number twelve, I thought of Edelstein. At first just that out of place flick of hair was in my mind. The chocolate brown strands flowed in grand waves that traveled down to his face. It was then I thought about those eyes of his. Those intense eyes staring at me as if they were right in front of me...

"What the hell am I doing?" Urgh, maybe I shouldn't had a drink earlier with Francis and Antonio before the event. It must still be affecting me somehow. Hopefully it won't make me do something stupid during the Contemporary show tonight. Francis had been excited about it since he planned it two months ago.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Westie, the door is open!" I heard the door open and I got up to greet my brother.

Ludwig looks great. My younger brother wore a navy blue suit. Unlike mine, it didn't have shimmer to it, but that lack of detail seemed to make it better for Westie. It was probably because he didn't have a flashy personality. In the pocket over the left breast is a white pocket square, with light blue polka dots, giving his outfit the slight whimsical feel it was missing. His trousers were tapered just like mine. The reason they looked different was because Ludwig naturally had a thick muscles, especially in his legs, which meant the pants hugged his legs. I had to admit, Ludwig cleaned up good, and it was one of those moments that I felt proud that my little brother turned into such a handsome man.

"Ah, I see you are dressed. Come on, the car is still running. I don't want to hit traffic. Where is your sculpture?"

"Francis took it." I said, heading out the door and handing Ludwig the key to my condo. He followed my lead, making sure to lock the door.

The drive was short for me, for Westie dropped me off at the entrance while he continued to drive to find parking. The building looked similar to a pristine university. The look was very fitting for Francis, for his first job was to be a professor of art. It was only one year of working at the college, that he was offered the job of curator of this museum. I can almost imagine the building altering its appearance to look more like the ones in colleges, in order to be more welcoming and familiar to my friend. It is a rust colored brick building with chalk white colored bricks at the edges. It had three floors, all of which had multiple windows all around. There weren't as many windows as the Albertina, and they weren't as decorated, but it made the museum more welcoming to people who were knew to art instead of intimidating.

There weren't any people for the event didn't start until eight, but I had to get there early. After all, the main attraction shouldn't be late, for that would disappoint the commoners.

I went inside, only to almost fall backward after being pounced on by my Spanish friend.

"Oh Gilbert, you look so handsome! I think I should hire Francis to help me with designing outfits for models on the runway." It was funny to see my friends overreact to my appearance.

"Thank you Antonio, I do look awesome don't I?"

"You're not just awesome star-child... really, you look wonderful." His tone grew softer, but his eyes still displayed the intense emotion he had. This was one of the reasons I liked Antonio so much. The man is passionate about everything he does. When he hates something he despises it to the very core of his being, and when he loves something, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that he was enamored.

"Well buddy, how's your new boyfriend doing?"

"Good, I am a little hurt though," he paused so that he could slip his arms off of me. "Since we are still getting to know each other, he won't allow me to say that he's my date. But I understand it must run in the family..." It was sad to see him so disappointed, but I knew he wouldn't think about it too long.

"Sorry about the lousy situation Antonio. But hey, that doesn't mean you can't introduce him to us. You have to say though that he's a new friend." I said, trying to cheer up the dark skinned man.

"Ah, I see what you mean. Oh! Francis told me that you have to go find him. I believe he wants your opinion on where your piece should be." I thanked my friend for the information and I wandered into various rooms of the museum in search of my French friend. It was odd being in a museum before the opening event. The place was so quiet. There are no people whispering or discussing how they felt about a certain piece or the smell of perfume or cologne of strangers. The only thing that was there were the pieces set up and the sounds of my footsteps. I had to be careful at what I looked at. If I looked at a piece that interested me, I might stand there for hours and make a fool of myself and Francis' show.

It was like a maze when walking into the museum. I believe the blonde curator did that on purpose so that people would stay and admire the artwork longer, just because they were lost. It wasn't until I was in a poked my head into a large room that I saw my French friend and my piece.

"Oh Gilbert, you are here. Now, where in this room do you want your piece displayed?" I was shocked. This whole room was just for my sculpture?

"Right in the middle, that way it is the center of attention." Francis laughed.

"Of course, it is a work done by Gilbert Beilschmidt." Once he put the sculpture on a large pedestal, I asked him "Is this room really all for my piece?"

"You are the main artist that everyone wants to see Gilbert. Your piece is the one that needs the most room. Actually, it is the second largest because the largest one is given to a new coming artist that made a short film."

"Oh," I was still in shock.

"Gilbert, it must still be odd being so famous. Ah, I remember when I first met you in college. You were so different and bold, much to the professors' dismay. Though, I remember you were dating this Polish boy who seemed to get on your nerves all the time. I swear, I think the only reason you two stayed together was because he was so handsome."

"You mean Feliks? Yeah, he was good looking, but we just grew to not like each other anymore. But it was lonely without him."

"Oh dear..." Francis gasped. He shivered, as if there were a frightening monster that was behind me.

"What?"

"You know Ivan Braginski? The last boyfriend you had that was fond of throwing your glass works out windows?"

"Who can forget that psycho? He would do that every time I upset him." I can still remember seeing my masterpieces being shattered outside my condo.

"He is coming with his new boyfriend, but you won't believe me when I tell you who..." he paused, probably thinking whether or not to tell me or let me find out myself. It is Arthur's younger brother, Alfred. He is the one that is buying all your paintings."

"What the-"

"I know Gilbert-"

"Dear god, why is this happening? Do you really hate Francis that much?"

"Hate me? He hates you. God is the one who wants you to lose your best customer."

"Yeah, but he hates you more because it is during your show." I retorted.

"Oh my... you're right. Oh god why am I your victim tonight?" The French man cried out, getting on his knees. I sighed, knowing that tonight wasn't going to be pretty but I was going to do my best to not make it World War III.

"Gilbert, there's only thirty minutes before the event starts. Quickly, get out in the front entrance and greet people. You're the main attraction today." I pulled him up and said, "No, that honor goes to my awesome friend."

"Hahaha, thank you for the compliment Gilbert, for I have been feeling very nervous about this show." He said. We were able to find the beginning of the maze quickly, probably because Francis knew where he was going. He even pulled from inside his jacket a huge stack of paper, all of them had a map of how to walk through the maze. The French man spoke the truth when he said I had one of the larger rooms. My artwork was being displayed exactly in the middle of the maze, where everyone can have equal access to it whether they started from the left or the right.

There were already people there, waiting for the maze to be open to them. There was a young man with dark hair, the same color as cherry wood, talking to Antonio. Just as Antonio said, he had an out of place curl that was on the right side of his head. His eyes were a hazel color, which seemed out of place for him. It wasn't that they weren't beautiful, but it was because it looked more like the eyes of an older person. He had a slightly tan skin tone, not as dark as Antonio, but darker than most people in Austria. This was probably the boyfriend Romano that my Spanish friend was talking about. The younger man didn't have a tie; instead he had a gold chain with the cross of Jesus Christ as a pendant. He was wearing a lavender dress shirt, with thin silver pinstripes. The shirt was form fitting, showing that the young man was in good physical shape. The shirt was tucked into his wide legged tan pants, which would have looked odd if the shirt's body hugging property wasn't there. There was a tan blazer, one that probably matched the pant, but it was draped on his arm.

Antonio spotted us and waved for us to come over.

"Guys, this is my b- I mean, this is my friend, Romano."

"Ah, he is so adorable. Since he your _friend_, you wouldn't mind of Arthur and I invite into a threesome and-"

"Ugh, you're disgusting. Get away from me Frenchie." Romano said. Antonio and I burst out laughing. I learned to like the younger boy. We had a lot in common, due to the fact that we were elder brothers. It was sweet hearing him talk about his brother, Feliciano and how much he worried about him. I didn't think we would have a lot in common other than Antonio, but we surprisingly talked longer than the usual "Hello, how are you?"

In fact, we were still talking until I heard a recognizable and not so welcoming voice.

"Ah Gilbert, it is nice to see that your dreams of being an artist weren't crap after all." It's Ivan. Romano stood still, his eyes wide with fright. Antonio immediately pulled him away, leaving me alone to face the monster.

"Hey Ivan," I said, trying to sound somewhat cordial. The platinum blonde had that creepy smile of his, but it seemed less creepy today because of the younger, sunflower blonde man holding on to his arm. Alfred made everything seem easy going and better, but that was because he was almost as awesome as I am.

"Gilbert dude, you got something for me to buy today?"

"No, but there is an auction near the opera house next week that will be selling twelve of my works so you can pick up a piece there." I said. Although my blood was felt colder and thicker by the minute being in Ivan's presence, I didn't want to ruin relations with my favorite client. Alfred's the only person that I could actually challenge me in a drinking contest and he knew the best jokes. Plus, he was the one who paid my rent with all his spending.

"Gil, you don't have to be so nice. I know Ivan creeps everyone out, don't you my big, cuddly bear?" He cooed. Dear god, I felt vomit in the back of my throat. The only thing that was satisfying to hear that was that Braginski's face grew red from the comment and actually nodded. Oh how the mighty have fallen...

"Hey, the maze is open. See you Gilbert! Hope we can find time to hang out soon!"

"Of course you do, I am awesome personified."

"Hahaha, you're funny man. Bye!" The two left, Alfred still holding Ivan's hand as they entered the museum's gallery.

"Brother, I would like you to meet someone. I think you'll be amazed who this visitor is." I swerved to see that my brother Ludwig had a friend with him, who was blowing kisses at the beautiful women were entering the door. The boy looked like he didn't even graduate high school. His resemblance to Romano was undeniable, but there were key differences. The boy had his hair curl on the left side, and he had yellow eyes that looked like they were real gold. The young boy's eyes were joyous, as if it were already Christmas. He was absolutely adorable.

"Hi! You must be Ludwig's big brother, I'm Feliciano."

"Oh, you're the famous artist that's bringing realism back. You are so cute; it's hard to believe you're twenty-three." I got closer and snaked an arm around his waist. Unfortunately, my hand was swatted away by my little brother.

"Westie, that was not cool!" I snapped. Feliciano was confused and looked up at Ludwig to see what just happened. Ludwig blushed and said that nothing happened. It was then I realized that this wasn't just any friend, this was Westie's boyfriend.

"Oh ho, someone had not been telling his elder brother about his love life..." I said, poking Ludwig on the cheek. His face became redder. My little brother mumbled something about them just being friends, and led the auburn haired boy to the entrance of the gallery. I was going to follow, but I felt a hand on my shoulder. It was an older man, old enough to be my father. His hair was turning gray, but most of it was still the original dark brown color. He had blue eyes, which had a playful twinkle in them. It was only when I looked into the man's eyes did I recognize him. It was the duke Charles Edelstein.

"Hello there, you must be Gilbert Beilschmidt, the famous modern artist. It is a pleasure to meet you, as you have referred to yourself in papers, Lord Awesome." He bowed his head slightly, chuckling as he did so. I blushed and bowed as well, but then I started to laugh myself.

"Yeah, it's nice to meet you too sir. What brings you here? I thought you weren't a fan of modern art."

"I'm not, but my son told me that tonight would be interesting. Isn't that right Roderich?" Oh crap. I looked over the older man's shoulder to see indeed, his son was behind him looking at us.

I almost forgot to breathe. Roderich was dressed in a white dress shirt, without the whimsical jabot. The garment fit the curves of his body perfectly, as if it were meant to be worn only by him. The jacket that he wore over the shirt was a maroon color, which would have looked horrible on someone if they had a blemish or imperfection on their skin. But Roderich made it look effortless, and it showcased how well taken care of his body was. The shirt was not tucked as I thought it would be, but it didn't matter because not only was it shorter than most dress shirts, but Roderich had the long legs to pull off such a style. He wore a straight legged trouser like he usually did, except instead of it being black, it was a navy color. It went well with the maroon blazer, for it was a softer neutral than the harsh black.

He looked at me, as if he wasn't interested, but I knew I was the only reason he was here. The aristocrat wanted to get under my skin and I didn't want to give him the satisfaction tonight.

"Yes, I saw the piece you made, the one with the crabs and lobsters. I notice that you are really good with detail and that you have similar techniques that of the masters of the classics. If you are not busy, I am in need of a wedding present for my son. Could you possibly paint a portrait of him for me?" It almost didn't process through my brain. A duke asked me, a simple artist, to do a portrait for him?

"I wouldn't mind, I am... not busy." I didn't know really know what to say to the other. I felt like kicking myself for acting this way. The older man didn't mind and started walking into the museum's maze, leaving Roderich and I to stare at each other.

"Hey priss, I see you keep your word." I said. I tried to be somewhat civil with my new client and model.

"Yes, it is refreshing to see you not dressed as a homeless man." He said, looking up and down on my frame.

"You disgust me. I may not be a Catholic anymore, but I still have some morals. One of them is that all romantic relationships should be monogamous." It was odd to be the prudish one in the conversation, but I couldn't help it. It was one of my beliefs and he thought that I was going to violate them.

"I find that so odd from an artist. I would have thought that you of all people would understand how outdated monogamy is."

"Outdated?"

"Marriage and monogamy have no meaning anymore. Over half of the people in a relationship have cheated on their partner. Science has proven those feelings are quite natural and that we do these things because the partner that we love with the frontal lobe part of our brain doesn't fit our version of beauty, intelligence, or endurance. Having multiple partners ensures that one's offspring are what they desire. Monogamy restricts an individual, and is an outdated way of conducting one's sexual life." I couldn't stop myself. I ran up to him and pushed him against the wall.

"How can you be so horrible? You are a monster and I hope you die alone!" I stomped out of the museum, chasing after a taxi in order to get away from the duke's son as fast as I could...

End of Chapter 4

I AM NOT SAYING THAT SCIENCE IS BAD! All the things Roderich says are technically true, but that doesn't mean that everyone should follow that path.

Now that I got that out of the way, read and review please! Don't worry; they don't hate each other forever! I swear!


	5. Unwanted Agreement

Yes, Russia/America is my OTP, so I had to put them in there! Also, I just read the fanfic "The Duties of an Austrian Maid" by Hazel-Beka and that just made me want to write more chapters for this thing again. Especially since chapter eight is the reason this fic's rating will go up... XD Oh I can't wait to write that chapter. But that could be because I'm such a weirdo...

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. ****Austria**** and ****Liechtenstein**** are brother and sister (****Austria**** is older).  
2. ****Liechtenstein****'s name is Cecilia Edelstein because she doesn't have an official name yet to my knowledge.  
3. This chapter has a lot of dialogue and for some reason is shorter than the others. SORRY!**

Chapter 5

I pounded on the door to Westie's apartment.

"Westie! Quick! Quick! Open the door!" I shouted. I closed my eyes and bashed the door with my fists until I felt my hands collide against hard flesh instead of wood.

"Brother, where have you been? Urgh, it is six thirty in the morning Gilbert, what do you want?"

"Westie, I went home basically as soon as you left me. I'll explain later what happened at MAK just don't let Francis kill me!" I cried out. Ludwig sighed, not knowing what else to do and just let me in. I thanked him quickly before entering the apartment in fright and slammed the door shut.

"Why don't you go back to sleep for it is really early in the morning? I know that you are probably tired." I said, still shivering a little.

"Okay, make yourself at home. You may sleep on the couch if you like." He said, walking back to his bedroom.

The couch was made of black leather. It was much longer than my tan couch, but that was because Westie was used to me laying down on any piece of furniture I could. The purchasing of the couch was probably to make sure this habit of mine didn't cause back problems. Ludwig is always concerned about my health like that. The red pillows on the couch were puffy like marshmallows. It was more for decorative purposes, but that didn't mean that they weren't comfortable. When I sat on the couch, I heard a familiar crunch of the leather adjusting to my weight. The pillows squeaked as well, as I moved my limbs. It continued to make the noise until I finally got settled in a comfortable position.

I was asleep for several hours until I was awoken by my cell phone. I recognized the phone number...

"Gilbert! Why the hell did you leave?" Francis spat out. It was so loud that I winced. Definitely a good idea that I waited for him to call me on my cell phone instead of confronting him in person, otherwise I would be dead.

"Now Francis there's a perfectly-"

"What? Were you being raped by Roderich? Huh? Argh you are such an idiot!" He then went on saying some French curses that I didn't understand. It went on for several minutes. The sound of his voice was so intense that I had to hold the phone at arm's length to prevent hearing damage. Soon I heard Arthur yelling too, saying something about keeping his voice down. The command only made the French man mad and they began to argue with each other. The man with bushy eyebrows kept yelling that it was just some stupid art show while Francis kept screaming that it was extremely important to him. I moaned. It was probably not best to do this at Ludwig's house, but I was afraid that if the conversation took a turn for the worst, the French man would sneak into my condominium and kill me.

"Look Francis, I'm sorry. It wasn't awesome, I know." I sighed.

"... I still want to rip out your insides you know."

"Well, that idea is better than my vital regions." I joked. It was probably too soon to start joking because there was only silence on the other end of the phone.

"... Well, at least not too many people asked for you. In fact, only your brother and the duke were the only ones that were looking for you." The French man appeared to have calmed down.

"Um, that's a good thing right?" I asked, still nervous about the reaction I would get from Francis.

"Yes, not many people wanted to ask you questions or take photos with you. They took photos of your chair, but not much else. At least you weren't there to complain. Sometimes your complaints of boredom are more troublesome than the humiliation of people asking for you and I can't get a hold of you. Still, it was disgraceful the way I acted in front of the duke. He kept saying something about you visiting Roderich's condominium three weeks from now. What is that about?" I groaned. I had forgotten about Charles Edelstein's favor.

"God, um... I accepted the job of painting his son's portrait as a wedding present." I explained.

"You're going to jail my albino friend!"

"What, why?"

"If you can't even stand to be in the same building as the man, you're going to kill him if you have to deal with him as a subject."

"I know, but I already accepted it. I'm not one to back down on my word, for that's just not awesome."

"Good luck then Gilbert, and expand your vocabulary past the word _awesome_ please." He chuckled lightly. I knew the French man wouldn't stay mad forever if it weren't serious.

"Whatever, and again, I am sorry about not being there for you at the show."

"You're still not out of the woods yet Gilbert. I still feel like killing you."

"I love you too Francis, bye!" I hung up immediately, and turned my attention to my brother who was drinking black coffee. Apparently I was so engrossed in my conversation with Francis that I didn't notice. It was hard to believe that Ludwig was sitting on his black leather couch and resting his arm against the puffy, couch pillows. It was an amazing ability to not make a muffled screech of any kind when a person brushed up against those pillows, for whenever I used them, the strange pillows seemed to cry in agony as they were being squished. There was no squeak of his feet gliding against the floor in bored and no hum of breathing. He made no sound, even as he sipped the coffee or readjusted the way he sat. A blind man wouldn't have been able to detect Westie because of the creepy silence. Westie was like a ghost, sometimes seen but never heard.

"Westie, are you dead or what?"

"Brother, how can I be dead when I am drinking coffee?" He ceased talking in order to take another sip. "By the way, you still owe me an explanation as to why you left yesterday at MAK in exchange for protection from Francis. I mean, I'm pretty sure it has something to do with Roderich, but I do not possess telekinesis that will give me all the details." Argh, again with the duke's son...

"He told me monogamy is outdated. Then he gave a bunch of bullshit reasons to justify it. God that guy is freaking messed up." I hollered.

"I can believe that-"

"God Westie, who the hell is foolish enough to want to date that bastard? Honestly, I want to drive his face into the ground and-"

"I had an affair with him Gilbert." Ludwig sighed. My blood was confused. The red substance didn't know whether to freeze or boil.

"You said that you didn't know him personally. Don't you remember Ludwig?" My younger brother shivered, knowing from the tone and the fact I called him by his real name was a bad sign. Then there is also the freakish twitching that I had in my eye when I was upset.

"Yes Gilbert and I am sorry that I was not honest with you. But I didn't want to startle you with the news. You see, it was during a time where I really lacked self esteem. I thought I was ugly and unlovable, for I didn't have a relationship even at the age of twenty-one. Even though I know it was wrong, I thank Roderich because it was only after a relationship with him did I get the confidence to know Feliciano. You were right yesterday at the show, I am dating Feliciano. But I still want it to be a secret for we are a point in our lives where we don't need those kinds of distractions from the press." Another sip was taken before he continued. "A couple days I found out about my feelings for the young man, I was scared to ask him. At that time, I thought that the chance of being with someone like that was zero percent... it was a bad time for me. Then I remembered Roderich and how he had been with many people. I... I saw him as my chance to gain some self esteem and prove to myself that I too deserve love..."

"Westie..." I gasped.

"I approached him, at first to ask his company to design several types of advertisements to promote my new book. I scheduled a meeting a personal meeting with him with the mission of asking him to have a relationship with me. My heart was pounding as the time approached and when I went into his office and blurted it out, do you know how he answered? Roderich only said _sure_. It was only a sexual relationship, but it made me realize how sad of a life that is. I didn't love Roderich, but it was lonely to not talk about your day and to not go out in public. It made me want to seek something more and so, I broke it off with the duke's son before we were caught and I asked Feliciano out. The only reason I didn't tell you this was because I didn't think you would understand. Roderich has taught me an important lesson about life, and I will defend him as a thank you."

"... I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have insulted anyone who wanted to date him. It is not their fault that they were tricked by his illusions." I said. I slipped onto the couch next to him, making a slight crunching noise as I sank into the seat.

"It's okay Gilbert; I know that you were just ranting. But please, try not to speak to ill of Edelstein in my presence."

"I... I'll try but a lot will slip here and there Westie." I mumbled. My voice was soft, and yet my younger brother was still able to understand what I was saying.

"Of course, would you like anything to eat or drink?"

"A wheat beer if you- wait a minute, why am I saying _if_? Of course you have wheat beer," I uttered. As he bent down into his fridge to grab a beer, I began to talk again.

"Westie, you know, just because he helped you doesn't mean he is a good guy."

"I don't know about that being so truthful brother. A lot of people had the experience with Roderich that I did. Vash Zwigli, the first person to have an affair with Roderich Edelstein, but he has been having a normal relationships since then. He is now dating Roderich's younger sister Cecilia." Ludwig explained. He shut the fridge and tossed the beer bottle to me. I grabbed it with ease and bit the top off to drink the yummy elixir. There were lots of hops to give it a wonderful aroma. I took a gulp and loved the nutty hints in the alcoholic beverage.

"But I'm sure there were a lot more people who were devastated than living happily." I grumbled and took another sip.

"Actually, I think almost everyone has moved on. In fact, the only one who took longer than a year was your friend Antonio."

"Still, it's not right to have romantic relationships with others when you already have someone." I argued. Westie nodded and looked at the clock. It was five in the afternoon. My little brother sighed. He groaned and got up from the couch, stretching his limbs. I still find it amazing that he could do this all without producing a noise from the couch.

"I've got to go see Feliciano. He had wanted to make dinner for me but we never have the chance. I don't want to be rude but-"

"No, it is no trouble at all little brother. I feel like walking home too. I'll see you later." I said.

I walked outside of Ludwig's apartment and down the zigzagging stairs. When I was outside, I hissed from the cold. I buttoned my charcoal, wool trench coat and began walking. Once I had passed through two streets, I felt warm again just as if I were inside my younger brother's house.

Sometimes I wished I was a normal person. For every time I saw white puffs escaping into the air from people's mouths, I keep seeing inspiration for a new piece. The white smoke coming from people was not just heat diffusing into the air, but the intensity of their souls to me. The souls had bigger dreams than a desk job or packing boxes, but were trapped in the bodies that limited their potential. I can picture the painting now. People would be walking the cold streets in their large, puffy jackets. The jackets would all be the same, and they would be so thick that people would look like walking circles. As they walked, there would be white smoke speeding out of their mouths with faces. All the faces would be crying in agony because of their sorry existence.

I am now only a street away from my condo when I saw him. Roderich Edelstein is standing in front of the entrance to my building playing the violin.

The sound of the E string fluttering in the air made my own heart beat flutter. His hands although they moved fast, were steady and controlled, making the hard piece he was playing look easy to the eyes. But the way the bow's rosin shot up into the air and the way it curved made it look like it took a great deal of concentration and stress on the arm. His fingers on the finger board seemed to frolic and leap in a happy pace, completely opposite of the mood of the piece. Soon the tempo slowed and the sound was barely audible. When I could no longer hear, I began to stroll down the sidewalk again. I continued to walk until I was only three feet in front of him, my eyes never leaving his form.

The sound went from softer than a whisper to a great crescendo. It was the finale. Roderich opened his eyes, the color luminous just as he had in Mirabell Garden and Park. He licked his lips. It was probably due to his acute focus, but that didn't mean it wasn't captivating. His hands began to slow again and all too soon, he played the last note and looked at me.

I realized that we had more in common than I originally thought. Roderich is an artist, just like I am. He can see the stories beyond the reality of life. I knew he could because even when he looked at me standing in front of him, his eyes were glazed with the imagination that my eyes got when I was moved by something. When my soul became one with a piece.

"Do you know the name of that piece?" He asked. His eyes were no longer intense and they were now curious.

"I've heard it before, but I can't remember its name." I answered honestly.

"It is Antonio Vivaldi's _Winter of the Four Seasons_."

"... why are you here doing this?"

"It appears that I have offended you. It would not be polite of me to find some way of apologizing to you. When I found that you weren't home, I stayed." The brunette said, trying to clarify his unusual behavior.

"How long have you been out here pansy? It couldn't have been long if you aren't shivering in the cold." I said, trying to find the familiar rhythm of insulting him.

"Yes, I was only here for an hour. I entertained myself with my violin." He waited an hour in this weather? How was he not a human popsicle?

"Why did you wait that long for me? Couldn't you have left a letter in my mailbox or something? Or even waited inside?" My voice was cracking with disbelief. Why would he do such a stupid thing? But he only shrugged in response to my qualms.

"I felt that it wouldn't have been as polite. After all, you are to paint a portrait of me. We have to at least be on civil terms with each other. Please, forgive my actions from last night. I didn't mean to displease you."

"You're insane Edelstein. Freaking-"

"You should probably call me Roderich, just as I should call you Gilbert. People who I associate myself with often that are only called by their last names are my other lovers." When he said lovers, I thought immediately of Westie and all my anger of the other man resurfaced.

"Whatever, just get off my property Edelstein." I said, trying to get past him and through the door. He held his arms spread out like an eagle, his violin in his left hand and the bow in his right. He glared at me, probably for wanting to leave so suddenly when he waited so long for me in the cold.

"Remember that we are to see each other three weeks from now to get started on the painting. Here is my address," and he handed me a slip of paper. "Be there at four in the afternoon. I will be done with all my business meetings by then." Once he finished speaking, he dropped his arms and pushed my gently to the side. Roderich held his violin and bow to his chest and whisked off. For some reason, my eyes were glued to him. It is probably the sway of his coat or the way his flick of hair fluctuated in the breeze. I prolonged my stare on his retreating figure until he turned a corner around the building and was no longer visible.

"God, I can't wait until I can get rid of that asshole," and I went inside to the comfort of home...

End of Chapter 5

Woot! Prussia, you are awesome but sometimes I want to bash your head in! Grah! Just admit that you're attracted to Roderich already! *Sigh* But of course, you have to be so stubborn (but that makes you awesome and being awesome is good... damn it I'm confused on what I want).

Read and Review please! Think of it as a nice gift for the new years for me. Lol.


	6. Anna Sacher

It's the first day of the year and I'm writing fanfiction, which means I'll be writing fanfiction all year. Hahaha, but I hope I keep updating my fanfics. I'm just two chapters away from the really fun chapter. Plus, I like writing Prussia/Austria, for there aren't enough fanfics for them.

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. Anna Sacher is one of the most famous restaurants in ****Vienna****, and is located at Hotel Sacher. One of the most famous cakes in the world is made there and it is the Sacher Torte (but personally, I preferred the Sacher Parfait better because I'm not a big chocolate fan).  
2. ****Taiwan**** is the Asian waiter.**

Chapter 6

Two weeks later I woke up from a phone call from my friend Antonio.

"Gil, do you think you can make a couple of sculptures for a fashion show that I am having?" Antonio asked over the phone. I yawned, still tired from staying up late working watching television.

"Uh, depends on when the fashion show is and how many sculptures you want." I sighed.

"I am putting pillars to place the sculptures on around the runway. I want them to be whimsical and magical. The inspiration should be what you think Arthur would believe where fairies would live."

"I'll make a bunch of strange flowers and stuff like that then, with bright colors and lots of shimmer." I said in a joking manner, not really considering the idea.

"Ah! It sounds perfect Gilbert, just make sure that they are only about thirty centimeters wide at most and they are well balanced. I don't want them to fall during the show two weeks from now." The Spanish man said, settling on the odd idea.

"Okay, what time is the show?"

"It is at five, but you better come at least two hours before because lots of celebrities like to come early and get situated in their seats."

"Okay, are we still going to Anna Sacher's tonight to celebrate Francis and Arthur's one year anniversary?"

"Yes, at seven and you have to dress nice. By the way, don't be the first to run out again like you did at Francis' Contemporary show." He joked.

"Hey... okay maybe that wasn't awesome." I laughed. We said our good byes and I checked the clock to see what time it was. It is two in the afternoon, which was an odd hour for me to just get up. This was probably the reason why people shouldn't stay up until seven in the morning watching television while guzzling down several bottles of beer.

Since I had plenty of time before they would pick me up from my home, I decided to get started on Antonio's sculptures.

Before I began to work, I set up an alarm clock to ring at six so that I knew to stop and take a shower. I entered my living room and spotted the modeling clay that I usually used when I made sculptures. It was a simple gray, natural clay but it was good for making things that wouldn't crack easily while I was working. It was something that every artist should have in their supplies, for the versatility of the earthy substance is astounding. But like anything in life, not everything about it is perfect. The first thing that I needed to do was take all the air out of it. It doesn't matter how beautiful the concept I had in mind, if the air bubbles in the material wasn't emptied then it would shatter in the kindling process. It was relaxing kneading the dough like substance. It oozed out of the space between my fingers and moved exactly as I wanted it.

Once it was becoming harder and less easy to roll and pound, which meant it was ready to become art. The first thing that I made was a simple base. I used half of the four pounds of clay and rolled it around on my table. It formed a spherical shape and once it did, I got up to from my seat and went to get a special instrument. I dug through my messy drawers, cursing when I couldn't find it. There were knifes, sticks, blending pencils, but no mallet. An idea came to me and I bolted to my bedroom. I checked the drawer of my nightstand and succeeded in finding my needed object. It is a mallet but unlike most, it was heavier on one side than the other. The reason it was made this way was to make anything hollow easier because there is not longer any drag from the weight on the other side. I ran back to the living and let the mallet drop onto the round lump of clay.

BAM!

It formed a cylindrical hole, which helped make it look like a vase. My hands then rounded the hole a little, making it more cohesive to the original shape.

I pulled a section off the two pounds of clay and used the help of my table to roll it into a thin rod. It didn't have to be perfect, for it was supposed to look like an organic piece, but I had to make sure that the ends of the rod were wider in diameter than the middle. Several more of these were made of varying lengths and widths to give the appearance of real flowers. When the flowers were done, I thought about how to add butterflies to the sculpture without using a thick, clay stem. For some reason, the idea didn't come to me and I heard the alarm go off to tell me I was done.

RING!

The alarm was shut off before I did anything else. Once that task was done, I got an empty spray bottle that I kept for these occasions and went to the kitchen sink. The stainless steel sink was still not clean, for I had forgotten to put away the dirty dishes that sit inside it. I considered putting them away, but I knew I wouldn't be able to make it in time to my friends' anniversary dinner. They were pushed slightly, so that I could fill the container with water. I filled the plastic bottle until it was more than half way full, I quickly got back to my sculpture and sprayed it lightly all over with the water. Clay could get dry and finished if let out in the open without water, so I had to make sure that it was taken care of before I left.

I sprinted into my room and into the closet full of fancy clothes. It would have probably been a good idea to have picked the clothing out earlier, but I never liked to plan things ahead of time. I decided that tonight I would wear my Armani dress shirt, a Polo Ralph Lauren jacket, and corduroy pants.

The shirt is a muted blue, button down shirt. When I put the shirt on my body, I remembered why I didn't wear the shirt often. It had a rough texture to it, even though it was cotton. It is an odd occurrence to have in my wardrobe since when I buy clothes; they are usually bought out of comfort. If my memory is correct, this is a shirt that Antonio bought me because he liked the pattern. The pattern is a simple check pattern, where the vertical stripes were alternating from navy blue to sea foam green, and the horizontal stripes were gray. Though, no pattern was going to make this thing comfortable. But I would grin and let it go, for it is a special night for Francis and Arthur.

At least the jacket is light weight and not bothersome. It's a tan jacket; at least, it looks tan in comparison to my skin, but to others with more color such as Francis or Alfred, than it is probably a color very similar to their skin tone. I buttoned the all three buttons to close the jacket, but it wasn't as good an idea as I though. I forgot to tailor the garment though because the sleeves are a bit long and the waist is almost not touching me. When I examined myself in the mirror, it looked as though I was wearing Westie's clothes. Unbuttoning the jacket again, it didn't look so bad. The jacket's large waist wasn't as noticeable and even the collar looked better.

I traded my pajama bottoms for the dark brown corduroy pants. They weren't as comfortable as the fleece pants that I was wearing before, but they were more adequate for an elegant event. It was another pant in my wardrobe that was a skinny pant. I think it was because other trousers other than a straight leg style were unflattering on me.

As soon as I zipped up my pants, I heard a knock on the door. I raced toward the door to see it was Antonio and Romano.

Antonio was better dressed than both of us, as always. He had a dark blue shirt that had a large check pattern that was definitely designed by Burberry. Unlike most shirts though with a moderate collar, the flaps that made the collar were so long that if they were flipped up, they would touch his jaw line. Over the shirt was one of Antonio's own creations, a gray jacket pea coat jacket. The jacket was double breasted and instead of extending past the waist and over the crotch, it stopped just below the top of his pants. But it wasn't only beautifully crafted; it was a useful item for there were large, flat pockets on each side close to the bottom hem of the pea coat blazer. His trousers were straight leg, and were made of tweed instead of usual men's clothing materials such as wool, corduroy, or twill. Although the tweed was mostly black, it had flecks of dark gray, ocean blue, and white mixed into the pant, tying all the colors in his outfit together.

Romano didn't look bad either. He had a beige shirt that wasn't tucked and it had olive green, vertical stripes running down it. The only place that didn't have stripes were the collar and the cuffs of the shirt. The younger man had no jacket, for it was a warmer night that last. His pants were jeans, but they weren't casual like the ones I wore to the park. They were skinny jeans that hugged his legs almost like a woman's leggings, but it had white fading probably from rubbing bleach. It gave him a younger look than those of us were going to turn thirty soon, but you could tell that he wasn't in high school anymore.

"Ah! What the heck? Couldn't you have put your pants on before answering the door?" Romano gasped, covering his eyes with his right hand. I looked down to see that my pants had indeed fallen. I realized I forgot to button the top of my corduroys.

"Che, what are you complaining about? People would pay to see me without my pants on." I shrugged. I jerked my slacks back up, making sure to both button and zip them.

"Hahaha, nothing is ever boring with you my friend. At least you look great. Come, we have a limo today thanks to Romano." Antonio laughed.

All of us left the apartment; we walked down the steps and outside. It was amazing that I was in a limo. The surprise wasn't the fact that I was in the limo, but because I wasn't impressed at all. I can still recall when I was in college being dazzled by my boyfriend Feliks and when he first picked me up in his limo. Yet here I was, treating this as if this is my every day life. Time can really change a person.

_"Oy, Gilbert, check out my sweet limo! Isn't it awesome? Unlike others, mine is pure white and the windows have a pink tint instead of being black."_

_"Ah, it is awesome. But I think having sex in the back is even more awesome..." Gilbert growled, sucking on one of Feliks' fingers._

_"Hahaha, come here then!" The Polish blonde exclaimed._

Perhaps that was what was missing, the strange blonde that no one could predict...

"We're here!" Antonio shouted.

"I'm not blind Antonio, I can see that." Romano huffed.

"Must you act so... not cute?" The Spanish man sighed. All three of us left the limo, and walked into the restaurant.

The restaurant was lit only by the light in the chandeliers, but because of the multiple mirrors that reflected its image, it gave the room a brighter feel. Mirrors not only made to room luminous, but they also made the restaurant appear larger than it really was. The carpet, velvet drapes, and paneled sections of the wall that held old paintings were deep green similar to an emerald. It gave a good contrast to the natural wood of the restaurant because the wood had a reddish tint that shined in the dark brown. The gold frames of the paintings helped bring color and shine to the room. All of the paintings were portraits of people who were a part of Austrian history or those who started the hotel. Other ways they made the dining experience more appealing were the way the tables were decorated. There were tables, almost all of them packed with happy people and were covered in white cloth to make it glow in the chandelier light. To make the tables stand out even more, the restaurant had used large, gray chairs with black, floral lace. At the more intimate tables away from the chandelier, there were thin, long candles with a small flickering flame on top of it.

"Reservation?" A man with a black suit asked. He was obvious one of the penguin waiters, because of the white shirt and black suit.

"Our friend's name should be on the reservation. We were running a little late." Antonio explained.

"What is your friend's name?"

"It is Francis Bonnefoy." The waiter looked over the long reservation list and nodded. He clapped for another waiter that was near by to show us to Francis' table and we were led to our friends. Francis was dressed the same way as our waiters, but he had a pink and orange striped pocket square in his tuxedo jacket. Arthur was dressed in a rich, dark green suit that was made of velvet. The shirt underneath was the color of mocha or Antonio's skin, making Arthur look almost like a military man instead of a journalist.

"Why doesn't everyone look nice? Hello Romano..." Francis swooned.

"Francis, you shouldn't be acting like this in front of Arthur!" Antonio hissed, slightly jealous over Francis hitting on his boyfriend.

"Che, he does it all the time. I know he doesn't mean any of it." Arthur shrugged. I sat down in my seat before I asked how my English friend knew.

"Oh, it happened about three months ago. I went to his house to see if he was home and instead I was greeted by his sister, the blonde girl who used to dye her hair brown. Clarice was very nice, serving tea and some cake that Francis had made the night before. When I first met her three weeks before when Francis picked her up from college, I thought she was a sweet girl who couldn't possibly be his little sister. Turns out she's just as wild and sex crazy as her older brother. The girl threw me down on the couch, straddled my waist, and tried to kiss me! I kept her back by holding her shoulders until Francis came in. Next thing I knew, I was in Francis' arms while he yelled at the young girl for over an hour about touching his property." Francis blushed, not liking the thought that his reputation as a playboy was being diminished.

"Hahaha, its okay Francis. I'd rather you weren't the man-whore you claim to be." I chuckled, boxing him lightly on his right shoulder. We looked over the menus and talked a bit more. It was mostly about work and family, familiar stories but stories I liked to hear about when it came to my friends.

"Hello gentlemen, may I take your order?" A waiter asked. It was a young woman who was barely in her teens. She was a petite Asian with dark brown hair and eyes the same color as her hair. What set her apart from the other waiters was the large, pink flower in her hair.

"Well, has everyone decided?" Arthur asked. Everyone nodded and Arthur decided to order first and everyone would go clockwise from there.

"I will have the Wiener Schnitzel with parsley-tossed potatoes," the English man said and handed his menu to the waiter.

"I'll have the Sacher Torte." Antonio answered, the Spanish man apparently not hungry for anything other than dessert.

"Sacher Parfait for me please," Romano said. The waiter found the young man adorable and gave a flirty wink to the Italian. Romano blushed, but didn't say anything to the lovely girl.

"I'll have the Tafelspitz with a cucumber salad," I ordered.

"And I will order the Sacher Schinken," Francis spoke.

"Shall I get you any wine for your dinner?" She asked.

Francis pointed to two red wines that interested him and ordered those as well. The Asian girl nodded, having written all their orders and ran back to the kitchen.

"You know Gilbert, It is a little sad that we do not have a sixth chair for you significant other." Francis pointed out.

"After Ivan and Feliks, I really don't want another relationship soon." I groaned.

"But aren't you a little lonely?" Romano asked. I was surprised the young boy would ask such a thing. "I don't mean to be rude, it is just, when I just had my brother Feliciano... it was still felt like my life was empty."

"Well, Westie and my friends are all I need right now." I said. The young woman came back, filling our glasses half way with rich, red wine. We drank the first bottle down, not at all in a sophisticated way. It must have looked crude, odd, or even disgusting watching the way we acted. I made jokes about how my life as an artist got me many women to come to my condo, making everyone laugh. Even Romano, the most conservative of us, chuckle softly. It was when everyone started to laugh like animals did I notice who was sitting in the table across from us.

Roderich Edelstein is there. I wasn't supposed to see him at his condo for another week.

It's the alcohol that made my mind think he looked extremely handsome. He wore a form fitting white suit, with gold buttons on his cuffs and in the closure of the blazer. The jacket fit his broad shoulders and judging by how small his waist was, I knew he had to have tailored them in to make it cut like it was. His jacket, similar to Antonio's was double breasted and had six buttons that closed it. His pants like all of the ones he wore were a straight legged trouser that helped show off his long legs. Underneath the pale jacket was a dark blue, silk shirt. Like most of his outfits, this one had a matching cravat, but this one had black lace detail on it.

The man looked at me with obvious disgust, he probably heard the jokes I was making. But once he made eye contact with me, he jerked his head back and minded his own business. Roderich sat alone, glancing around the room and then back at the gold watch on his left wrist. The brunette must be waiting for someone.

"Roderich, I'm sorry I'm terribly late!" A female's voice gasped. It is Elizaveta's voice. She was dressed in a black dress. The dress was slim fit on top and slung to her ample chest and her small waist. Once it hit her hip though, it flared out in a bell shape or what Antonio called an A line skirt, a little past her knee caps. Her thick hair was pulled into a simple ponytail, showing off her lovely cheekbones and her feminine jaw line. With her hair pulled back, it also gave her eyes more room to shine, especially in an emerald room that complimented their beautiful color.

"It is alright Elizaveta, I am just happy that you are here." The duke's son said. She blushed, apologizing for being late again before he got up and pulled her seat out for her.

Suddenly, our waitress appeared with all out orders on a large platter. The Asian woman handed them one by one, making sure that none of us had to move or lift anything out of her way. Once she was done, the young girl gave out chilled spoons to Antonio and Romano, who both ordered dessert.

"I hope you enjoy your evening with us."

"We will, and thank you my dear." Arthur said, giving a coy wink to her. She blushed and walked away to another table she was waiting on.

"What was that?" Antonio gasped. Arthur just gave the Spaniard a confused look.

"I just felt like it. She reminds me of a Chinese man I used to date seven years ago."

"Oh, is it that boyfriend you met in college, Yao Wang?" Francis asked. The other blonde nodded.

"Yes, but I kind of regret the way I treated him. I know he must have felt more like a servant instead of a loved one." Arthur sighed. Francis laughed and gave him a small hug.

"You are so adorable, to still worry about those kinds of things in the past."

"I'm not worried! I just don't want to repeat those events." It wasn't long after that we all began to eat. My beef was delicious and the only complaint I could think of was that the chef added a little too much in that pinch of salt they're supposed to add at the end. As everyone ate and there no one was talking, my eyes started to wander toward Roderich and Elizaveta's table. They both were talking calmly, but what was odd was that even though they were a couple, they weren't holding hands. Sure, the young woman would sometimes playfully twirl her hair or rub her foot softly against her date's leg, but none of the actions were reciprocated.

When Roderich shifted his eyes to look at me, they were almost glowing. I huffed and continued to eat my food, but I could still feel his eyes trained on me. When I was done, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Francis, I forgot that I have people coming to my house tomorrow early in the morning. They want to haul some of my artworks off to MUMOK; I hope you don't mind that I have to bring this great night to a close." I said. The French man nodded, knowing how odd my schedule could be when involving museums and auctioneers. I place enough money to pay for my food, the bottles of wine, and tip for the waitress in the middle of the table and sauntered off. I didn't know whether I was imagining it or not, but I felt as if the future duke's eyes were upon me still.

It was almost nine as I walked the streets of Vienna. I was in the older part of the city, and I was probably one of the few people who were out that weren't tourists. Soon, I had walked so far that I didn't even recognize this neighborhood. The condominiums and townhouses were larger and much more elaborate than my own, so it was definitely a richer part of the city. When I saw a street sign, for some reason, I remembered seeing its name before. I instinctively pulled out my wallet, the place where I kept all my business cards until I saw it. This is the street Roderich Edelstein lived on. I continued to walk until I saw his large townhouse.

The building was pure black, with golden colored rails. The black bricks although were probably as old as the buildings surrounding it, looked as if it were built yesterday. The only thing that showed any aging was the black dust that covered the white paste that held the material together. I wasn't sure whether it was actual gold or not, but the railings had the same shine as gold jewelry. The colors however started to mesh. What is happening? Somehow, I lost my balance and I decided to sit down on the first step to the building.

"What are you doing here?" I turned to see that the voice is from Roderich Edelstein. I saw on his watch that over an hour had past since I left my friends.

"I don't know... I just felt like it." I mumbled. He seemed to hear me and walked up the three steps to open the door into his condo.

"Why don't you come in? It is already late." I nodded and walked inside. I was too tired to really pay attention to what the house looked like; the only thing I really noticed was Edelstein. He pulled me inside by my hand and told me to first take off my shoes near the door. I did so, and he led me up the stairs and into a room where there was a large bed to lay on. The bed, sheets, and comforter were a cream color that was just a tad darker than my pure white skin.

"I saw you drink a lot tonight. I think it is finally affecting you now." Roderich said.

"I don't need your opinion prissy boy." I snapped. I could hear him chuckle in amusement to my statement and I glared at him as best as I could. Once I lay down on the bed, he let go of my hand.

"Stay right there, I'm just going to get a blanket for myself on the couch."

"You don't have to sleep on the couch. I'm not a fat ass as you can see... you can sleep next to me..." I grumbled as I began to fall asleep. He smiled sweetly, almost like an angel. In this state of mind, Roderich Edelstein wasn't a sexual, deviant monster. The guy is sweet, like he has a heart.

"Alright, I'll sleep on the other side. Good night, Gilbert," and before he slept, he kissed my forehead...

End of Chapter 6

Yay! I wrote the sixth chapter!

Read and review please!


	7. Decision time

Lol, I'm glad that people liked the chapter where Austria was actually nice… XD If you were confused as to why Prussia got dizzy from alcohol... yeah... I kind of had that experience with alcohol actually when my brother let me try it for New Years holiday. I found out it doesn't take full effect until about an hour later. Plus, I imagine Prussia drank most of the wine since he didn't have a boyfriend to tell him to slow down (maybe soon he'll have one).

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. I know Beethoven is a German composer, but I know ****Austria**** likes to think he's an Austrian. Silly ****Austria****, Ludwigs are for Germans.  
2. Short chapter, sorry!**

Chapter 7

I woke up to the smell of vanilla and coconuts. A foreign smell, for my shampoo smells like cinnamon and apples. My eyes were still tired, but I let them flutter naturally open. The first thing I noticed that this definitely wasn't my bed. Although the bed was the same color as mine, the furniture was definitely a king sized one instead of my full. I turned to my left and saw two doors, both made of heavy, cherry wood. One of them was left ajar, showing that it was an extremely large bathroom with white marble flooring that had sky blue streaks. The sink and vanity in the room in contrast were made of black marble with gold, bronze, and silver flecks that sparkled in the small amount of sunlight that peaked in from the window of the bedroom. The toilet was pure white porcelain, which was just as clean as the rest of the area. Beyond that was the large tub and shower that were just as white as the toilet and were also made of the same porcelain.

When I looked at the bedroom floor to see that it was marble just like the flooring of the restroom, but instead of light blue streaks, it had golden colored slashes that ran through the tile. I slowly got out of bed, seeing that I was still in my clothes from last night. At least I knew I didn't have sex with a total stranger.

Suddenly it hit me. This is the Aristocrat's house.

I shot out of bed and glared at the alien thing. I gave it a swift kick, but it didn't respond in any way. Then I felt something against my feet. The floor tiles were heated, a nice touch to an older building. The next thing I noticed was the door that was directly across the bed. I thought that the best plan to put into action would be to get my shoes and run out. I crept to the door, making sure to not make a sound. The only way to go was down the stairs and I took every step as slowly as I could. I was doing well until I took the fourth step down the skinny stairs.

Immediately from a room downstairs, Roderich appeared with a silver platter full of breakfast pastries that were still steaming. Roderich was dressed as if he were going to go to a business meeting, for he no longer wore the white tuxedo I saw him in the night before. The brunette had a dark gray suit that was almost black in color, and a yellow dress shirt that had no jabot like the others. He had a small smile, gesturing me with the plate that I should eat first before I leave. There is no denying that I am a glutton, and so I raced down the stairs and followed him to the room to the left of the townhouse.

It was an odd living room. There was no television or simple, comfortable couches. The room looked as if it were from a different time period. The wall paper was a floral one that was colored lavender. The borders and lines of the wallpaper were a silver shine, making the fine details pop. Against the walls were instruments such as the violin, viola, cello, bass, French horns, and other instruments. The only instrument that wasn't resting against the wall was a large, grand piano in all its glory. The instrument was taken care of, for the onyx black exterior still gleamed as if it weren't opened from its packaging. It had a matching stool that was just as shined and polished as the instrument, making them both the definite center piece of the room. The only other things in the room was an older table that looked to be made of Brazilian rose wood, but I wasn't sure since it was illegal to make such things for many years. Right next to the coffee table was an antique couch that had pastel yellow and muted yellow stripes that colored its fabric.

My mouth watered when I saw the sweets. But I was broken from my hungry gaze on the treats when I heard a soft, velvety laugh.

"The way you look at my cooking is quite amusing. I hope you are not disappointed when you finally get a taste." The brunette said, picking up a tea cup and sipping some of the English tea.

"Hey, as long as it's better than any of the crap that Arthur and I make, I won't hate it." I said, taking a seat next to him and took a small bite of the dainty apple strudel. After that bite, I scarfed the rest down, barely chewing it. It was delicious!

"I take it that you enjoy them?"

"Heck yeah pansy, you're not so useless after all!" I groaned, wolfing down another tasty morsel. He chuckled at my behavior and got up from the table to sit on the piano bench.

"Oy... aren't you going to eat?" I asked, holding a warm eclair just an inch away from my mouth.

"I just don't feel like having sweets unless I play myself a little music first." With that, his fingers struck the piano. It was odd to see him playing another instrument so well. How could play these instruments so well when he was... wait, what was his profession? How would I know that this was odd for him? After all, he did play a violin for supposedly for about an hour in front of my building...

Still, it was nice to see the wealthy man like this. When he played an instrument, he didn't have that tense posture. His shoulders moved freely, his fingers moved as though they wanted nothing to do but play, and his whole body swayed as he played. I wondered what he thought about when he played. Did the dark haired man have a specific story or emotion in each piece that he memorized? Or did he learn to let go all of the frustrations that he must experience as a duke's son and the papers written about him in the tabloids? The boy to me is such an odd riddle that I don't know if I'll be able to solve. But the most mysterious thing about all this is why do I want to know? Were my friends right? Is there really some charm that he possessed that no matter what the man chose, they would be attracted to him almost magnetically?

"Did you enjoy my version of Emperor Concerto, Piano Concerto No. 5 in E-flat major by Beethoven?"

"Uh... sure... sorry, I don't really know any pieces other than those for the cello. It was the only instrument that I learned to play." I said. He nodded and took his seat on the couch. Roderich plucked a cobbler that was filled with apples and blueberries. He made a slight displeased face.

"It's a tad sour. I think that my staff didn't pick the apples at their ripest like I ordered them. Do you want to try it?"

"Uh sure-" Before I could say anymore, I felt his hand gently grasp my chin as if it was silk. He thrust the hand with the pastry just a centimeter from my mouth. It felt like several minutes, even though they were probably seconds before I knew what was happening. The man was actually very serious about me trying his cooking. Roderich gazed at me; his eyes were the same as they were when they were lustful.

I took a timid bite; even though I would never admit out loud that I was timid, making sure to get a piece of apple and a blueberry to taste everything. At first it was mild sweet, but once the sugar dissolved quickly into my mouth I could taste the sour part of the fruit. It was only after I swallowed that I gazed back at him. The aristocrat's eyes now back to normal again. God this guy is like a freaking mood ring.

"How does it taste?"

"Well, it was a little sour but it is still good." I whispered.

"Is it really?" Roderich asked.

"Yes, I think-" Abruptly he jerked me closer to him by my jacket and our lips locked. Roderich only pulled away just to nip at my bottom lip, asking me for what he desired. I gasped at the sudden movements, not really sure how to respond. The aristocrat's tongue brushed against mine, sending a jolt of electricity down my spine. I stopped being a dead slug in the ground and actually reciprocated back. Both of my arms wrapped around his waist, trying to get him even closer than humanly possible. But he wanted more than just hot, steamy kisses and as our lips continued to get more aggressive, he unbuttoned my shirt all the way down. I hissed slightly at being exposed to the air, but then two pair of warm hands ran themselves up and down my naked top half.

Roderich pulled his mouth away first, nipping at my chin led to sucking on my neck. It was going to be hard to hide the hickey Edelstein was going to leave, but I didn't care at that moment. His warm mouth continued down my body until he reached the left nipple. The future duke playfully swirled his tongue around the bud, making it turn from pink to a deep red. I groaned, my hands now in his thick, luscious hair, trying to keep him in that spot. He switched to the other nipple. The brunette flicked his tongue against it before taking it all in his mouth and sucking it gently. Even the scraping of his teeth felt good, I could see why he had so many lovers.

The man pulled away from the sensitive buds and peeked up to see me. He leaned up, I thought he wanted another kiss but instead he nibbled my right ear before he spoke.

"I've opened the door artist, and now the rest is your choice. You still have time to blame this on the alcohol and just leave if you want, for I have a business meeting in an hour. But if I see you again in front of my door step Gilbert, I will not be so... merciful..." He whispered, twirling some of my shirt hair with his right, index finger. Roderich buttoned my shirt up and got off the couch, dusting himself off of whatever dust or dirty he accumulated when he got on the floor to pleasure me.

"I'll be back tomorrow whenever I please, so if you're at a business meeting when I get here it is your loss." I snapped.

"Are you serious about that threat?"

"Yes, I'm not a person whose time is to be wasted."

"Neither am I artist," Roderich said, in a way that made me almost shiver. He held my hand, leading me to the quickly walk to the door. I found my shoes there and I slipped them on easily. As soon as I did, I decided that I wanted to leave a present of my own to the duke's son and pressed my lips against his one last time. It was brief, but I felt his hands try to pull me in for more.

"Nope, not this time. Tomorrow and whenever I feel like it." I said and stormed out the door...

The walk to my house seemed so quick, but once I was faced with my bed, I realized what I had just done. I made a deal with the freaking devil.

"Fuck... fuck, what the hell did I just do?" I shouted to myself. I groaned and collapsed on my bed. Then I rolled on top of the comforters out of frustration and anger. Not only that, but my insides felt like they were boiling for I had betrayed myself. How could I have fallen into his trap?

"Damn my hunger for tasty sweets!"

RING! RING!

"Good, a person to vent to." But as soon as I said it, I remembered the oddity of my situation. Almost everyone I knew had heard me talk about hating the aristocrat and not wishing a relationship with him. To tell them that I had changed my mind, was persuaded so easily, and that I had succumbed to a moment of weakness, would have been utterly humiliating. I can picture Francis laughing at me, Arthur would scold me, and Antonio... the Spanish man would just stand there in silence. His reaction would bring the most shame because I have no idea the magnitude of his disappointment. Would he possibly secretly hate me, even when I broke it off with Roderich? Or would he feel pity for me for he knew what was to come to me? A romance that would only last six months and would make you regret that you've spent time in your life with Edelstein?

I checked my phone and saw it was Westie. Perhaps if I told him without telling him who it was...

"Hey buddy, why are you calling your awesome brother today?"

"Well, I just wanted to ask you if you felt comfortable playing the cello about three months from now?" Ludwig asked.

"Um, sure little bro, but why do you want me to play the cello?" It was a bizarre request. Nobody really knew that I played except Ludwig.

"I was talking to Feliciano, and he said that he and his brother wished to play something for Antonio's birthday. The only problem is, is that they need a cello player. You're the only one I know, so I'm asking you." Count on Westie to cheer me up, his cute shyness always makes me smile.

"Yeah, I can do that if you'll let me vent again."

"Is this about Edelstein?" I winced, thankful that he couldn't see me on the other side of the phone.

"No, it's not about that stupid aristocrat. I want to talk about relationships."

"Am I really the best person to ask about this topic? I'm twenty-four and I just started having a first real relationship." He explained.

"Yeah, you're the best guy. I like talking to you the most Westie, you know that."

"Alright, begin whenever you are ready Gilbert."

"Okay, well there is this woman that I've come to hate. I mean, she is the devil incarnate. The girl has multiple partners, is cold, and doesn't give a flying fuck about any of the people she hurts in the process. There's only one problem, she's really, really, really attractive... Well, kind of... okay she is but I don't want to admit it." I started out, trying to test the waters and see if he saw who I was really talking about.

"Is that they problem you are facing?"

"No, I can admit people are attractive but they're douchebags. The thing is... is that I think that we agreed to have sex with each other."

"Oh..." He must be blushing and grossing out at the fact that his older brother was having sex.

"Well, we haven't done it yet but there's this thick amount of sexual tension."

"I see, but what will happen once you have sex?"

"I guess that I'll continue to have sex with her until I'm bored." I shrugged. I didn't have any long term goals with this.

"Humans naturally become attached to people they have sex with. It's very hard to just walk away after you've trusted someone with your body."

"You did it with Edelstein." I pointed out quickly, seeing my glimmer of hope.

"It was not as easy as you think." His pause made my heart sink. "The night that I did break it off, even though I wasn't in love with Roderich I still could barely get the words out."

"So what do you think that I should do?"

"I think you should leave the woman alone." He said with such certainty, and yet I knew that I wasn't going to listen to him...

End of Chapter 7

Yes, Gilbert kind of made up his mind. He's stubborn like that which means that he's going to see Austria the next day... whenever he feels like it.

Read and review please! School will take me away from my work, but just one review jumpstarts a chain reaction which leads to more chapters...


	8. Lust always wins

Lol, I made another chapter. Yay! See, I can keep my promises. But I'm not saying that it just takes reviews to encourage me, it's also the mood I'm in.

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. There are actually four gasometers that were built in what used to be an industrial manufacturing district (if memory serves me correct). They now serve as housing facilities and are quite lovely.  
2. RATING CHANGED FOR A REASON! When you see this *** that means that there's MATURE SEXUAL CONTENT about to begin. I'll also signal *** when it is over and it is okay to read for readers who don't want to read that.  
3. To those of you who don't like sexual content, sorry, this chapter is short.**

Chapter 8

The morning coffee at six in the morning cleared my head. Yesterday my hormones were out of control but today I would go to his place and tell him no. I couldn't cast all logic into the wind for a stupid, rich kid that I didn't even like. Not even if he was extremely attractive and very talented with the tough and long muscle he called his tongue... that mental image wasn't helping my mission. I shook my head in frustration and once it was cleared again, I remembered what I was to do. My mission is to reject that aristocratic bastard. I decided that at least I could take this opportunity to go to his house and use it for time to get his portrait done. The faster that I can get that task done the closer I was to getting rid of him.

I gathered a large, blank canvas, and placed it in my bag first because if took up the most space. After careless tossing paint tubes, a palette, couple of brushes, and several pencils, I zipped up my bag. Before I left for the wealthy man's house, I checked my own home to make sure everything was turned off. Once everything was turned off and the only thing that was out of place was the dishes on my table, I grabbed my bag and rushed out the front door and into the world that is Vienna, Austria.

My mind wasn't on the tourists or citizens that were walking on the street. Nor was it on the wonderful sites such as the beautiful bridges that looked like they popped out of a fairy tale, the golden arch of the City Railway Pavilion, or even by the funky gasometers. All I could think about was how to tell this annoying, brunette that I didn't want any part of this horror and deception that he called a love life. I didn't want to tell him that he was right about the alcohol affecting me, that's just weak. Plus, I'm not a liar, so that just leaves the option of being blunt. I've never had problems with that idea.

When I made up my mind to flat out deny him of any sexual contact and scream rape if he did anything, I knocked the door of his townhouse in confidence.

But then I saw him shirtless and barely awake. His beautiful eyes no longer hid from the glasses he wore and the only thing that was on my mind was to ravish him. So much of his skin that he dressed so heavily was exposed to my hungry eyes and mouth. The soft neck that he laid out in the open as he tilted his head slightly to the right made my mouth water. I wanted to bite down on that flesh, as much of it as I could until he had to wear turtle necks for months. The movement of Roderich's hand coming from his hip to his neck to lightly scratch the surface made it all the more alluring to me. I needed to make it red before anything else did...

"Ah, I see that you're an annoying morning person type... well, come in, I'm still tired from work." He yawned, moving to the side to let my in.

"I see that you have your art supplies. They would make a good cover up for this sort of thing." Edelstein spoke again, but my eyes were focused on the bobbing Adam's apple on his throat. Unconsciously I dropped my bag on the floor so I wouldn't be hindered by it. I watched in agony as he slowly closed the door that displayed the outside. Once I heard the door click I shoved him against the door and immediately suckled on the desired flesh. He groaned out of pain and threw me off, sending me to land my butt on his floor.

"How vulgar, at least wait until I've brushed my teeth. Also, I refuse to do have sex anywhere but a bed. Before we can even get to the bed, you need to know the rules." Roderich scolded, completing the image by waving an index finger at me. I whined and shot up, grabbing his bare shoulders and pulled him into a kiss. I thrust my tongue into his, bringing an odd muffled shriek from the aristocrat. My tongue met his and I pressed mine as hard I could against it, feeling the electricity flow through me again. I wasn't the only one to find this pleasurable though. Roderich groaned and weaved some of his long fingers into my white hair. But his eyes flung open and he pulled me by my hairs away from him. I groaned again but when I tried to lunge for him, he held me back. I didn't care about retaining dignity, my morals, or even what Roderich's desire for hygiene. My loins were on fire and I knew he had the same feeling.

"Go sit on the couch! I going to brush my teeth and if you ambush me again you will be kissing the street outside my door instead." He threatened. I huffed, but did as he told for I didn't want to find out if he meant it. So I sat in the only room that had a couch in it. It's the living room where this all started. I sat the edge of the couch cushion, waiting in anticipation for the other man. I could still remember the tender skin, sinking my teeth into it and tasting his salty skin. I could run my tongue over the soft skin for hours, the texture smoother than anything I've ever felt. The two minutes he took to brush his teeth were pure misery. My blood was accelerating at a dizzying speed, and I couldn't stop the enormous rush of heat that I was feeling.

There was a shuffle in the kitchen and I sprang up to see it was Roderich making himself some tea. I sighed and yelled "Hey, I thought you said no mercy you bastard!"

"I figured you to be a night time person. I didn't think you would show up here at seven in the morning and tackling me against the door!" Roderich shouted, for the squeal of his tea kettle was getting louder. The wealthy boy poured himself a cup and took a sip. He sighed in bliss which made me all the angrier at him. The brunette is selfishly enjoying himself while I sulked on his couch and waited as _patiently_ as I could for him. What a jackass...

"Now we will go over the rules Gilbert." He said.

"First, you will always bring something that will tell people otherwise why you are here in my house. Whether it is your paints, camera, or other sort of equipment from work, you must bring them. I do not need another useless story reported about me."

"Whatever..." I sighed.

"Good that you understand that one, now the next is that we will not show up at any events together if it can be helped. Showing up to too many events and being chatty will result in suspicion brewing in journalists and reporters' minds. Third rule is that you will not become a personal friend to anyone in my family. I don't want to see you at dinners, outings, or anything that I do with my family. Do you remember all that?"

"Are you done yet Roderich?" I complained.

"There's one more rule that I have for you artist." The future duke said in a quieter voice. He slowly walked over to the couch and slid right next to me. His pale chest brushed against my left arm.

"This is only sex, and nothing else." With that, he brought out the ferocious personality that captured me in the first place. I wasn't going to let him go this time and I hauled him over my shoulder and ran up his stairs.

"Gilbert! What are you doing? Unhand me this instant, this is unacceptable!" Roderich yelled.

"No way, I'm not letting you scurry off again you prissy bitch." I explained. He huffed, trying to push himself out of my arms but there was nothing that was going to stop me from getting the other man now. When I reached his bedroom, I flung the door open and threw him onto the bed. Once I slammed the door closed, this stage of our lives was sealed. *******

I sauntered to the bed, slowly crawling on top of Roderich with what no doubt, would be called a predatory grin. I grabbed the man by his hair and pulled him upwards toward me. Our noses just touching and our eyes full of lust were staring back at each other.

"You'll finally understand the word awesome, and its definition is having sex with me."

"Prove it Gilbert..." he whispered. I threw him down on the bed, and tossed my shirt onto the floor.

"You better fold-" Roderich couldn't say anymore for I crushed out lips together. I pressed several more soft kisses against his pale, blush lips before I nibbled at the bottom lip, asking for permission to enter his mouth. As soon as he obliged I shoved my tongue in. I could taste the citrus tones in the tea that Roderich drank earlier and the mint from the toothpaste. But it was all of those things along with the unique taste that was all Roderich that made me shiver. It felt so good to pursue all this tension and desire. I held him by wrapping my right arm around his waist while my left arm hoisted his legs over mine, never breaking our kiss.

Perhaps there is this fascination that he has about them or my own body was just as tempting as his was to me, but Roderich kept running those slim hands over my nipples. I could feel his fingers pinching the small buds, making them harden under their touch. The electricity and heat inside me went into overdrive. Then I realized that below my eyes was the swan like neck that I seek was free from Roderich's protests and lunged for it as soon as I could free my mouth. Sucking the flesh hard, almost to the point it bled but the aristocrat didn't seem to mind. In fact, his hands immediately settled for the top my head instead of my chest. Those hands that appeared so delicate and soft jerked my head with such power. It was amazing to think this wealthy, prissy boy whom I only really knew to have just musical talent could have this kind of strength.

My hands no longer felt the need to lock in his waist since his thighs were now supporting him. It was my turn to show him what I could offer and I moved lower. The little bud on the right was already a dark pink in color from anticipation. I smirked and looked back up to see his gorgeous face. The soft blush on his forehead and cheeks if possible, made Roderich even more attractive, and the way his full lips were parted almost looked like he was about to faint. He desired anything I could give him. My mouth latched onto the nipple, brushing my canines almost in a ticklish fashion. Roderich gasped and thrust his chest forward, his body pleading for more. God I didn't know who was having more fun. Edelstein by the way his voice was getting hoarse from moaning or the enjoyment I felt from wiping that usual, calm look in his face. As I licked his flesh, I felt a fingertip gently poke on the left cheek. I looked up to see that Roderich was twisting the other nipple between his fingers. I don't think I've ever seen anything more erotic.

His eyes were shut and his pearly white teeth bit down on his pouty lips. Edelstein's teeth clamped down to hide any wanton noises that were produced by my actions. Roderich's head was thrown back, his long neck appeared even more tempting to me.

"Fuck..." I gasped. He glanced down to see I stopped pleasuring him and whined softly. I smirked before I got back to work. I saw that I even drooled a little from staring at him. There was a thing trail of saliva that slowly followed the dip and curve of his abs.

The image made me grow impatient and I pulled both his cotton boxers and pajama pants in a swift motion. The position of his legs was in the way so I pushed him down onto their bed so I could get his shapely legs out of the constricting garment. It seems his lovely legs weren't the only thing that was restricted by Roderich's pajama bottoms. A thick, throbbing cock stood straight up. It's head blushing a dark, crimson red, while most of the shaft was just a tint lighter in color. I licked my lips and knew that this would be a great day to satisfy any of my oral fixations. I kneeled down between his open legs, my right hand rested on his soft, supple thigh while the other jerked his cock in long, quick strokes. Roderich's hips bucked and his muscular back arched off the bed. His hands gripped hard on the sheets beneath him, to the point that his knuckles were almost as pale as my skin. I felt my hand on his shaft become slick with precum and I leaned my mouth down for a taste. The slightly salty taste had me hunger for more and I moved my hand to the side so that I could take in more of his hardened organ.

"Oh lord..." He shuddered. I grinned around his dick and decided to give him something to really moan about. My mouth descended lower, bringing slowly every centimeter of his cock inside the hot orifice. When my lips were able to touch the curly hairs at the base, my tongue danced around the thick appendage.

"God, Gilbert..." Roderich groaned. I pulled back to say in a low voice "Yes, as of this moment Roderich, I am your god."

I gestured for him to watch as I lowered my mouth slowly back onto his cock. His neon purples eyes seemed to flash a tiny bit brighter when I took a little more into my mouth. It felt so good to have this power over him. But it wasn't just what it did to him; I really enjoyed the taste of his cock. The salty and slightly bitter taste from the precum was nothing I ever experienced. I need more of it. My tongue kept flicking the tip to get more. Once it stopped flowing so freely, I realized that I need to do more work to get it out. I shifted my head so that I could take all of Roderich's cock into my oral cavity. My left hand aimlessly searched for his right, and once it did I made him thread his hand into my silver colored hair.

Roderich got the message and he jerked my head up and down. I kept up with the pace he set easily and I glanced up at him to see challenge him to go faster. He let out a faint gasp and he shoved my head even harder. It felt good to just let go of the control and suck on his thick appendage. I was greedy, almost gluttonous with the way I sucked. Soon Roderich hips started to shake and his stomach quivered. He almost screamed out my name, pulling my face away so he could spread his cum all over it. I kept my mouth open, trying to catch as much as I could. I would have wrapped my mouth around his dick to make sure I got every drop, but that stupid bastard held my head back.

When he was done, I brought my fingers to my face to scrap off as much of the warm, sticky liquid off my face and into my mouth.

"I don't know if that's disgusting or extremely erotic." Roderich said, once he had caught his breath.

"What? It's not like you've got a disease, unless you got something you want to tell me." I chuckled.

"No of course not!" He shrieked and threw a pillow against the side of my head.

"Oh yes Roderich, hit me harder!" I mocked. The brunette huffed and pointed at my pants. "You still have yours on."

I smirked and pulled lightly at the belt. When Roderich's eyes told me that he was ready for another round, I took it off and launched it off behind me. It hit the marble floor with a soft clinking sound and I unbuttoned my pants. The brunette licked his lips when he saw my bulge that poked through the trouser. I sighed when I pulled them past mid thigh because my erection sprang out and bobbed up and down.

"You didn't wear any underwear! Not only is that vulgar, but didn't that feel uncomfortable?" Roderich gasped.

"Che, relax Roddy, it is just underwear. God, the more you talk the more annoyed I get." I growled, kicking the pants off my legs. Before he spoke again, I grabbed his shoulders and shoved him into the bed. I used my hands on his shoulders to balance so that I could lean over him. His eyes were filling with lust again. I crushed our lips together again, so hard that I almost winced from the pain of our teeth brushing against each other. Our tongues met, wrestling for dominance. I almost lost too; if it weren't for my quick thinking my right hand shot down and gave Roderich's limp cock a few tugs. All of his body froze except his hips at that moment and I stole the win away easily.

He groaned, not caring about our little competition. I knew he wanted it.

"Where's the lube Roderich?" I whispered in his ear.

"Under the pillows there should be a clear bottle."

"Hehehe, what a naughty boy you are Edelstein..." I said before lightly nibbling on his ear. I reached under the pillow on the left and felt a cold, plastic surface. I grinned and pulled it out to see that he was right about the lubricant's location. The cap made a soft clicking noise when I uncapped it. I squeezed the bottle so that the thick substance oozed out and onto my fingers. Once four of them were slick with the clear liquid, that hand went down and between Roderich's legs.

"What are you doing?" He asked, genuinely confused what was happening.

"Isn't it obvious pansy, I'm going to fuck you hard."

"What! No you aren't, I am never the submissive one."

"You are now!" I grinned, shoving a finger harshly into his tight asshole. Roderich gasped and grabbed the sheets underneath. A single tear fell from his eyes and I knew he was actually serious about always being on top. I kept my hand still and I leaned over to kiss him on the forehead. My finger moved in and out slowly, trying to coax him to relax. He still breathed heavily, but at least no more tears came out. The slow pace kept steady until I heard a soft whine from Roderich. I stopped to see if he was in worse pain but when I did, he bucked his slim hips against my finger. I smiled and kissed him on the forehead, telling him that it will feel even better soon.

When I pulled my first finger out until the very tip was the only thing inside, I slipped another finger in to join it. He bit his lip, muffling his discomfort. I felt bad that he was not having fun so I decided that I should distract him from the pain. My other hand had found his half hard cock, and pumped it in time with the two fingers thrusting inside him. It was only when Roderich was truly enjoying them that I added a third. Soon the brunette was grinding against the intruders inside him and he almost sobbed for me to put my dick in him. I shook my head in a teasing manner, happy that Roderich was enjoying himself. The fourth and last digit went it, Roderich cried out my name. I thought that he was going to cum again. I slithered my fingers deeper, making sure that was thoroughly ready for something bigger. But the way he moaned and sighed, I could barely control myself.

A pleased grin spread across my face and I withdrew my fingers to prepare my cock to go into the brunette. The liquid felt so cool to the touch that I hissed. It made sure to make it extra slippery to make sure that it would go into the tight hole easily. When I but the lubricant away, I turned my attention to Roderich to see that his eyes were glued to my crotch. I winked playfully at him and mouthed the words "Like what you see?" He blushed my nodded. I slipped between his legs again, this time they were bent at the knees.

I watched in awe as the head of my cock got past the ring of muscle. Gods he really is a virgin. Well, actually, the correct term would be 'was' now. Roderich groaned, telling me to hurry up but I couldn't help but watch. Watching more of it slip in until my balls touched Roderich's soft buttocks.

"Gilbert, if you do not move I will throw you out!" Roderich yelled. I grinned, well, whatever the brat wants. I withdrew it back at a quicker pace, and shoved it in. Gods he was so warm and tight. I kept slamming it in, trying to get even deeper into the heavenly heat. I could feel at the tip of my cock the smooth skin of his prostate. I drew back and pushed even harder into him. Roderich kept moaning, bucking his hips in time with my harsh thrusts.

It'd hard to believe that the young man was a virgin down there just moments ago. The aristocrat couldn't stop himself from screaming at me to go harder.

I hoisted Roderich's legs over my shoulders, not only because I loved the feel of his skin, but so that I could change the angle to hit that spot inside him even harder. Even though we had only been going at it in such a short amount of time, I felt myself coming close. But I needed to make sure that Roderich came first. I jerked his thick, long cock in quick pumps, and I kept fucking the brunette as hard as I could. I had no rhythm anymore, I just wanted to bury myself into him and reach my peak.

"Gilbert!" Roderich moaned. Thick cum rushed out of his cock and plattered out stomachs and chests. He was already tight, but now the grip on my cock was so strong that I could barely move. I felt the coil in my stomach tighten as well and after three thrusts into the tightened hole did I cum as well, deep inside Roderich. *******

We caught our breath before we started talking again.

"Can you get me some tissues from the nightstand? I don't wish to be this sticky." Roderich said in between heavy breaths.

"Yeah sure prissy boy." I said, giving him the tissues. Once he grabbed two sheets, I grabbed myself two sheets and wiped myself clean.

"Hahaha, I got to tell you Roderich, I wouldn't have thought you hadn't been... well, bottom before. After all, you've been with a lot of guys. I'm sure Francis would have tried something." I chuckled. He shrugged.

"It's just how I've always been."

"Man, I thought you were a really weak, pretty boy. I would have thought even that fiance of yours can top you. By the way, she has a mean slap!" I remembered.

"Hm... yes, she is quite strong. I think it was because she thought I had a thing for violent people." Roderich said with a small smile on his face.

"Why the hell would she get that idea?" I asked, and my eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

"Oh, because the first person I dated was Vash Zwigli. He used to be a good friend of mine and he had a thing for collecting firearms and other weapons. But once we were caught it destroyed our friendship and our romance. It was a little sad..." Roderich said, sounding a bit sad thinking about the man in his memories.

"You loved him, didn't you?" I asked. He blushed but nodded slowly.

"I've only been in a relationship with two people. One of them is this rich boy, Feliks Lukasiewicz, but we just kept arguing about things. But I think he was the closest I got to loving someone. There was another guy who I found interesting, Ivan Braginski, but he wasn't who I thought he was. He seemed nice but he was actually vicious and psychotic. So yeah... love life sucks ass." I laughed. Roderich laughed as well.

"Yes, finding love hasn't been a successful adventure either."

"Che, if you didn't just sleep with people maybe you wouldn't be in this situation." I joked, poking his cheek.

"I guess, but I don't think I could find anyone who can understand. So I must live my life like this, after all, I have to think realistically. After all, who would want to be with someone who is already to be married?" Roderich sighed, bringing the sheets and comforter over our sweaty bodies. I cuddled up closer to him and wrapped my right arm around his waist.

"You could always be honest and dump her you know. There is always another choice." I said before I yawned. Sex really drained a person.

"Sometimes a person must accept their fate..." He whispered, kissing me on the forehead before we both fell asleep.

End of Chapter 8

Whoot! Hope you liked it and again, sorry for those who don't like mature sexual content. Don't worry; there are only about three other chapters that have this. ^_^

Read and review please! Your reviews will actually help with my English project that I have to work on! XD


	9. Everyone's onto us

Yay! Prussia and Austria have some sort of a relationship… okay not really. But they are at least getting there! Oh Prussia, so in denial about what is totally happening to him though. Sigh. Also, can't wait for the next chapter. Roddy will surprise everyone... maybe, but it will be different.

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. Dorian Gray is a character from the book _The Portrait of Dorian Gray_. I don't know if this should be added, but this is just in case you get confused when ****Prussia**** starts talking about him.  
2. Whoot! We learn more about Roderich's family tree briefly (about two sentences really O_o).  
3. Old man Fritz (Frederick the I) is ****Prussia**** and Ludwig's grandfather in this. He's mentioned briefly (like a sentence).**

Chapter 9

I woke up about two hours later to Roderich's sleeping face. I sighed to myself. How could have this happen? When did my thoughts of him change so quickly? Two weeks ago I absolutely despised the boy. Yet here I was, sleeping in his bed next to him, both of us are naked, after I had just taken his butt cherry... Who would expect that? I must be going insane.

Yet right now, I feel sane because I realized how ridiculous my situation is. Why is it that I am only able to think rationally when he's not awake or near me? Is there really some mystic about him that makes inhibits your personality from being itself? Maybe he is secretly drugging me through his cologne or some pheromone that he puts on his skin? It wouldn't be terribly difficult to do. Many of those things that can cause attraction are readily advertised and sold in magazines and television. But I heard many of those things don't work (according to Francis, a very reliable source) and that they usually only work in attracting someone of the opposite sex. Is there some rational explanation for this?

I sighed. I guess if I have to work with Roderich, I might as well get along with him. Maybe this sexual relationship will be a good thing. We certainly won't feel like killing each other if we are having too much fun.

"Gilbert... you woke up earlier than me again?" he groaned. Roderich's eyes were barely open and he shut them again.

"What time is it Gilbert?" I checked the clock on the wall for him.

"According to your clock is nine-thirty." I whispered for I know his hearing might be sensitive from just waking up. The effort was all wasted because Roderich's cell phone blared out a loud, piano melody.

"Ugh, can you move your arm on my waist for a second? I have to answer that. My father hates it when I don't answer his calls. He always assumes the worst and thinks I've gotten kidnapped. Then he sends everyone to search for me, even though it was something as simple as sleeping or forgetting my phone at home. I swear, the man must have cut Elizaveta's life in half because of his idiotic, worst case scenarios." The aristocrat sighed. I winced when he talked about his fiance. My heart felt as if it were filled with lead. I was the one that Roderich was betraying her with. I removed my arm away from his frame, not wanting to be so close to him until I forgot about having hurt the lovely woman without her knowing. Edelstein sat up and lifted his pillow to retrieve his cell phone.

"Hello father, how are you?" Roderich paused to listen to the duke's answer. "No, I'm not at work today. I had many things scheduled yesterday and lots of paperwork. I don't know how the time escaped me but soon it was already thirty minutes past midnight." I was in awe. It's no wonder then why he didn't like my morning intrusion. I didn't know the location of Roderich's work but most of the business district is at least an hour away.

"No, I fell asleep at a much more decent time than that. Don't be silly father. Otto drove me home and I was allowed a short nap on the drive home. It was only two in the morning so as long as I take it easy today, I'll be fine. Alright, good bye father and say hello to mother for me," and then he ended his call. I poked him on the cheek to get his attention.

"Specs, why were you up late last night?" I pouted for I thought that he forgot about our arrangement when I agonized over it. He smiled softly.

"Well, I didn't know what time you were to arrive today so I did all the work I was supposed to do today last night." I hid my satisfaction to those words and made a sarcastic comment.

"Wow, I must be so special." I joked. He shrugged and laid back into his spot again. "You are pretty special actually. You took the longest to get to this stage and were also the most stubborn." I blushed.

"Che, I know that is just your fancy way of saying how great I am." I said. I then remembered that I had my art supplies downstairs. I quickly dashed down the stairs to retrieve the black bad. When I came back, I saw that Roderich had already fallen asleep. I smiled and put the canvas and a pencil on the bed. The rest of the bag rested against the bed on the floor and I sat as gently as I could on the mattress as to not disturb the other. When I began drawing, my heart started feeling a lot lighter. It felt nice to draw again, after all that sculpting I did two days ago for Antonio's show. Maybe it is because a pencil feels so natural in my hands or because I wasn't a natural sculptor. Whatever the reason, it felt goof to sit down and sketch.

I almost found it hilarious how easy this was. Unlike other people I made portraits for, I never had sex with them. Roderich in all of his naked form was fresh in my mind. The shape of his face, weight and texture of his dark, wavy strands, and even the small mole on his face that was a beauty mark, all of those things were objects that I saw, touched, and tasted in my mind. His slender hands clawing at my shoulder, and his velvety voice screaming for me to thrust even harder into his body were vivid in my thoughts. I shivered at the memory. I desired to touch the other and see him in that delirious state again, but I didn't want to molest a sleeping person. I tried to get my thoughts away from the subject, but they kept wedging themselves back into my head. Sighing again, I decided to see the progress of my work. I had only completed drawing the basic outlines of Roderich's face, his facial features, hair and neck.

The canvas and pencil were tucked away into the bag on the floor and I returned to lying next to Roderich under the blanket. I got right beside him, my hard on poking against Roderich's back and I felt his body stiffen immediately.

"I'm sore and if you don't get that thing anywhere near my lower half I will chop it off." He threatened. It suddenly scared the urge away and I groaned.

"And you were so sexy before." I huffed. I wrapped my right arm around him and snuggled the base of his neck. Roderich smelled like fresh apple pastries with dusts of cinnamon. I kept breathing his smell in slow, deep breaths. I don't know how long I kept sniffing him, but abruptly I recalled Antonio and his show. I should go visit the Spanish man and show him what the first sculpture looks like to see if I had to change my vision.

"Since you're tired I'm going out Roddy." I informed. I grabbed all of my garments that were scattered on the floor and quickly threw them on.

"You better show up at a more reasonable hour next week Beilschmidt."

"Hey, what happened to Gilbert? You had so much fun screaming it hours ago."

"Now is different, for I'm not in the mood and wish you to keep quiet." Roderich said bluntly. For some reason I wanted him to ask me to stay.

"Whatever prissy boy, I'm leaving. I'll see you this weekend. Saturday at four I'll be here, after I go to Mirabell Garden and Park."

"Salzburg again? It's so far away just to work on your art. Why don't you have a studio? If you can afford the frequent trips to the city than you can certainly pay the price for a good studio." He grumbled.

"I don't know why I like going there to be honest. Yes, the flowers are beautiful and all the statues are well crafted, but there are many places like that. I'm just drawn to that place. Though, every engaged couple seems to like that place too. The only reason I'm forced out of that place is because someone's having a wedding there. It's really annoying especially since I spent the two hours riding the train there for nothing."

"I would have forced you out because of your liking to dress like a homeless, not because of a wedding." Roderich chuckled. I playfully huffed and stuck my tongue out at him in response. After that I said "Careful what you say Roderich, otherwise I might never come back." I left with that statement hanging in the air, but both of us knew it was in fun. I brushed my clothes just to make sure they didn't look like they just lay on the floor for several hours. I walked outside casually and closed the door to Roderich's house. As soon as I did that, reporters immediately bombarded me with questions.

"Mr. Beilschmidt! What are you doing at Mr. Edelstein's house?" A female reporter asked.

"Are you the new home wrecker in the future duke's life?" I kept my calm and sighed. I didn't think I would have to deal with them so soon. Thank goodness I took acting in college and put on my best confused look. I innocently pulled out my canvas with my sketch on it. Everyone around me snapped pictures of the sketch. I didn't know what those idiots were thinking. Perhaps they thought I was going to confess that I was indeed in love with the young man and I was going to immortalize his image onto a painting. Ha, please, it's not as if Roderich is as charming as Dorian Gray. The aristocrat may be as handsome, as witty, as rich, or… okay, they're actually pretty similar.

"I, Lord Awesome, have to make a portrait for Edelstein as a wedding present from the duke himself, Charles Edelstein. I would have gotten more done, but you know those aristocrats, all they want is perfection!" I exasperated. They all moaned and walked away, apparently bored with any story that doesn't involve defaming the brunette future duke. I continued walked until I heard the hum of a car. It was so familiar to me for some reason. I looked behind me to see that it was a bright yellow Lamborghini.

"Oy star-child, how are you?" Antonio yelled out of his Gallardo.

"I'm good Antonio, just going home."

"Oh Gilbert you devil! Are you just getting back home from a midnight rendezvous?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive manner. I laughed and said "No, nothing like that." It hurt in my stomach to hide what I actually did, but I didn't want to confess my actions with Roderich. Losing the Spanish man as my friend was not on my agenda today.

"Oh well, you want to ride?"

"Sure, I needed to show you my first sculpture I made for your show anyways." Antonio abruptly stopped the car so I could get into the passenger's side. The black leather interior was cool to the touch. Once I was buckled in we sped off, getting to my home within minutes. I directed him to the spot in the living room where the sculpture lay.

"Now, it is going to look different once I paint it and cook it in the kiln."

"I think it looks good already. Can I choose the color of the paint you're going to use?" Antonio asked excitedly.

"Sure man, the paints for the sculptures are over there." I said, pointing to a corner shelf that held over fifty colors. The Spanish man picked a variety of violets, yellows, pinks, oranges, and greens and handed them all to me. I looked at him with a confused look and said "Um... here I'll give you a quick sketch of the sculpture and the names of the colors that you have here off to the side. You draw arrows from the names of the colors to the parts you want colored that part. This way everything won't get mixed up and it'll come out exactly how you want it."

The Spanish man nodded and then remembered to ask something. "Hey Gilbert, you're a little pink today. Are you getting sick?"

I felt my conscious want to scream _No! I just had hot sex with that guy I really hate. You know him; he's the one who stomped on your heart years ago!_ "I'm a little warm, but I'm sure I'm fine man. Come on, you know that I'm too awesome to get sick."

"Alright, if you are sure Gilbert. Call me if you need someone take care of you if you get sick, you can always call me."

"Yeah, yeah, I know I can count on you." I said and began working on the sketch. I forgot that my Spanish friend was there as I worked. I first started drawing the vase, making sure to draw it as it looked in real life. The stems, flowers, and all the other details were added. In fact, it wasn't until Antonio started laughing did I snap out of my trance.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, you're just so cute when you're not caring about your reputation as Lord Awesome. It's really nice to see such passion in your eyes when you draw. Were you always like that, even when you were young Gilbert?"

"Yeah, my grandfather used to pick on me because of it. But old man Fritz really liked the arts so he was happy to have a grandson that was into it as well. Too bad Ludwig and our grandfather didn't get to know each other. Ludwig was the typical boy who liked sports and was good at math and statistics, while Fritz... well, I'm sure that grandfather would have spent his whole life gardening and drawing." It felt nice to talk about my grandfather. When he died at the end of my high school year, I couldn't even talk about him. But now that ten years have gone by, talking about him sort of made him alive again.

There was a knock at the door.

"Hold on!" I yelled, walking over to the door. It was Arthur and Francis, holding a picture of Ludwig and Feliciano out at a restaurant and kissing.

"Gilbert, Gilbert, isn't it adorable?" Francis cooed; bring the picture closer to his chest and hugging it. Arthur looked at me with a smug look and wiggled his bushy eyebrows.

"You owe me big time Gilbert. This photo could have gotten me four hundred, thousand euros if I turned it in to my editor. But when I saw that it was your brother, I knew you would totally kill me if I did."

"Nah, I wouldn't care. Feliciano is another artist just like me. Granted he's a classic lover, but I don't have anything against the classics. They're just a little boring for me personally." I said. Though I didn't know the auburn haired man that well, when I met him he seemed like a nice young man. He was handsome, had an honest face, and didn't give off the impression that he was trying to do something bad to my brother. Everyone looked at me in awe though, so I asked them all what was their problem.

"Well, Feliciano isn't just any artist. His mother is the only sibling of Charles Edelstein. In other words, that makes Feliciano Vargas, the fellow artist that is also your brother's boyfriend, Roderich's cousin." I stiffened at the sound of Roderich's name. It was easy to lie to strangers like reporters, but what about my friends?

"Uh, well I don't mind. After all, that would mine I would have to be upset with Antonio too. After all, isn't Romano the older brother of Feliciano?" I suggested. Antonio nodded.

"Oh yeah, damn it. I thought I was going to get a free show and see you blow up. How boring..." Arthur huffed. Francis laughed at the English man and hugged him from behind. "We could provide everyone with a free show if you want-"

"No way in hell!"

End of Chapter 9

Another chapter, but man... chapter ten will definitely be different from this one.

Read and review! ^_^ Thank you everyone who were kind enough to do so, they really help me with my motivation and also with my project. XD I have to write my reactions to them and how helpful they were as an English project, how fun is that?


	10. Surprises aren't always good

Thank you CielDeMinuit for the correction. Frederick the II is Old man Fritz so ignore my note about that in that chapter. Sorry!

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. Oh boy, anyone who doesn't like MATURE SEXUAL CONTENT, sorry! This chapters starts with it, so remember *** means that it's over.  
2. You might feel guilty for liking the Prussia/Austria... I know I did in this chapter. ;_;**

Chapter 10

It was Saturday at four, and as I promised I was outside of Roderich's door with my canvas and pencil in my bag. I knocked on the door to Roderich's townhouse. The door opened in an eerily fashion. It creaked and the brunette was no where near the door. I walked in, confused to what going on. As soon as I passed through, the door slammed shut.

"Roder-" my mouth was then attacked by Roderich's own. This time he had me pressed against the cold door. I groaned and slipped my arms around his chest so that my hands gripped his shoulder blades. It felt amazing. The aristocrat's tongue was almost biting, something that I've never felt from any other lover. I was so engrossed in the passionate kiss that I didn't feel the black, all leather collar. It was only when he pulled his lips away from mine and tugged on the leash did I notice.

I got on my hands and knees to prevent choking to death. I instinctively clawed at the device around my neck, but Roderich lightly kicked me in the stomach. A few coughs escaped from my lips, but other than there I wasn't really hurt as all. I stared up and saw his eyes. They had the intensity of a thousand suns. I had almost forgotten to breathe under their gaze. He grinned at my shock and leaned down so that we were face to face. He laughed when I cringed in what he probably thought was fear and told me "Do you know the definition of the word _best_? It's having sex with me." My eyes bugged out and I didn't know what to make of this new creature. Was this really Roderich? This thing that licked his lips and pointed to the stairs that led to Roderich's bedroom?

"Crawl servant, I don't like to repeat myself." The aristocrat growled. I nodded and started to crawl on the heated tiles underneath me. But I heard a cracking sound and felt a stinging sensation against my shoulder blade.

"Slower, I don't want you to waste your energy. You know why?" He paused and gently rubbed his riding crop against the crack of my ass. "You're going to need every bit for what I have waiting for you." My arms almost caved in at his statement. What sort of things was this mad man going to do to me? And why was this... turning me on? I dragged along the floor slower as he ordered, but not really out of obedience but because it was getting harder to crawl with my swelled erection against my left leg. I took deep breaths, trying to stop my arousal from growing even worse but the sounds of the links in the chain bashing against each other kept reminding me of the situation I was in.

The first step was in front of me. I put my hand flat against it but I was whipped. I turned to Roderich and was about to ask why when he hit me again.

"Your misbehavior is unacceptable. How dare you, do you think that you have the privilege of loitering along my steps without giving a token of worship?" He grabbed a handful of my hair, but the slight pang of pain from that action was nothing compared to when he shoved my face into the stair step. "Kiss it and only then will your arrogance be forgiven."

I whispered a quiet yes and placed a gentle kiss on the wooden object. With every step to the bed chamber, I had to give a small kiss to the wooden planks. My body was filled with some foreign emotion. Was it shame because I was reduced to a thing who wasn't even worthy of using stairs properly? Was it some form of arousal that can only be experienced with Roderich as the dominant partner? Or is this feeling my body is having its way of telling me to get the fuck away from this crazy, future duke? Whatever it was, the sensation was strangely addicting. This alien thing that was building up inside me made my thoughts run wild and my heart beat grow erratic. Thos thoughts were scenarios of Roderich's punishing or rewarding me and they shot massive amounts of heat to pool in my groin.

I was at the top of the stairs when Roderich shortened the leash and pulled hard to make sure I was immobilized. The chain was lengthened and the young man meandered around me so that he could open the door to his room. Once it was open he assumed his position of master and made me crawl again. His bedroom was its ordinary self, yet I knew he probably had something devious planned since he wasn't bothered at all ordering me around in a leather collar like a dog. Roderich ordered for me to stop moving and while I was still erect on my hands and knees, the brunette unhooked the chain from the imprisonment around my neck. I let out a sigh of relief but the wealthy youth started chuckling in a menacing manner. Swiftly he scooped me into his arms and threw me roughly down on the bed. "Oh no, your discipline is just getting started Gilbert. Don't underestimate me my albino pet."

Two sets of handcuffs were in his right hand. The future duke latched a set on each of my arms and attached it to the bed frame. It forced me to have to find a comfortable position but the only one that I was capable of finding comfort in, made me rest on my forearms while my ass was high and vulnerable in the air. No doubt this was Roderich's desired position for me.

"I detest that shirt." Roderich commented and I heard the click of a pocket knife. The Austrian grabbed the shirt from behind and made a slow slice down the middle. I could hear the loud sounds of the shirt tearing, as if it could feel the pain of being destroyed. The brunette then sliced more of my shirt. Some of the cuts were cosmetic while others truly did function for the purpose of getting the cloth off my frame. The garment finally fell in silence onto the bed, lying tattered and defeated. Roderich sighed in satisfaction. The aristocrat brought a hand to my back and I abruptly cried out softly. The touch was gentle and wouldn't have even been felt if it was any other time, but the wounds from the riding crop were still tender and irritated. It was pure torture the way he traced them at such a sluggish pace. I bit my lip but whimpers of protest and the movement of my back gave away that I was in distress.

"You heal quickly, how sad. I think I need to hit you harder. After all, you still disobey me so." I shook my head furiously but I felt the burn of another smack. I moaned, shifting my body to get away from this ache but he snapped the hand held device in his hand once more. Roderich's other hand went from my back down to feeling my hardened cock through my pants and smirked at my reaction. I blushed and closed my eyes in humiliation. I didn't like that this turned on so much.

"Responding so well to the discipline, I like it." The brunette loomed over me and placed soft kisses on the nape of my neck. They were so warm and sweet. I desperately need those light and human touches after all the wood, tile, and other artificial things that caressed my skin. Distracted by the kisses, I didn't acknowledge any of his other actions. Such as his unzipping of my pants until my dick was free from its cloth prison. I groaned when I felt his right hand snaked in; barely brush the length of my shaft. I thrust my hips to try to get more friction but his left hand stilled as soon as I began those actions. Roderich leaned in closer, his large erection poking my naked buttocks through his pants and his hot breath against my ear. He whispered "I know you like surprised Gilbert so I have another one for you."

The click of a latch and I saw a clear ring around my cock. I gasped and I heard him say "I knew you would like it."

I could smell lubrication when Roderich hauled himself off of me. My thoughts in that moment? Thankfully he wasn't cruel enough to not prepare me. I heard the squeeze of the bottle and him rubbing the lubricant on generously. The sounds alone made shivers quake through me. The anticipation was killing me.

"I'm going to use the purple one on you." I thought he was talking about the lubricant's color until he placed a set of dildos the colors of the rainbow next to me. The purple one was missing and was the smallest of the set. It increased in size by two and a half centimeters until it got to the red one. I gulped and grew nervous looking at the large, glass object. It was about thirty centimeters long and was about six centimeters wide. I pleaded a silent prayer in my mind that Roderich didn't use that monster on me.

The cool, slick tip rubbed the ring of my entrance. Cool lubricant immediately grew warm when it came it contact with my skin. My heart was pounding as he continued to tease me. I couldn't even prepare myself for the impact for whenever he prodded the little hole; if I moved my hips back he would retract it. This continued until I whined, trying to shove my hips back to him as far as I could. Roderich with an open palm slapped my left butt cheek roughly and sighed.

"I thought you were going to obey. Stupid pet, you don't decide how these events play out. I do." Suddenly I was filled by the small glass dildo, all twelve and a half centimeters going into me at once. Although I've taken larger cocks up there, I still found the hasty intrusion painful. I whimpered but I heard him give a small "hm" in amusement. Roderich pulled it out slowly, twisting it slightly to provide me even more friction. It felt like a dull burning sensation and yet I was experiencing a euphoria that I had never felt during normal intercourse. The more he delayed pulling the object out the harder it was to control my breathing. I always kept expecting that would be the moment that he would slam it back in, but I was never correct. When it was over half way out, Roderich twirled it around, like one would stir a sugar spoon in their tea. I gasped and moved my hips in a circular motion opposite to his stirring, doubling the pressure of his strange movement.

As I was getting used to the purple dildo, he pulled it out quickly. I whimpered for I felt empty without the fake appendage. Wildly bucking my hips back, I tried to see if I could get it blindly back in. Roderich struck my ass cheek again, before kissing the sensitive flesh in almost an apologetic manner. It was when he did that, did I realize how tired my limbs were from supporting myself for so long. They shook almost violently; evidently to the point even the aristocrat took notice of the condition of my frame. He released me from my binds and put away the collection of dildos and put them back in their spot.

I collapsed, wincing when my hard cock brushed against the sheets. Roderich chuckled at me, and even though I felt slightly ashamed, I could stop myself from begging.

"Please Roderich, I need it." His amusement only grew and he tore a condom open. I was surprised since we have done it the first time with no protection. Though once I saw the little, circle shaped bumps scattered on its surface. My body trembled and unconsciously clenched imagining how those would feel inside me. Roderich applied the clear liquid on his cock and waved for me to come to him. I shook my head.

"I... I can't move Roderich..." I sighed. His evil smile made me feel a little angry but I was too tired to express it. The brunette brought one arm under my knees and the other around my waist. I was face to face with him, my arms resting limply on either of his shoulders. Both of his hands rested on my hips, and slowly lowered me down. Gods it was good that he prepared me with the dildo because Roderich is so thick. It filled me more than the width of four of his fingers. Those little ridges of the condom were pressed against my inner walls, brushing the nerves in a way that I've never felt before. I shuddered and groaned, my cock almost impossibly hard. I thought I was going to die from the overload.

"My, we're going to have to work on that stamina of yours Gilbert. But endurance is only improved through lots of practice." For the first couple of movements, Roderich had to guide my hips until I regained some strength. My body felt almost on fire from the sheer amount of bliss, making me unable to stay still. I put all my strength into my thighs to allow me to bounce up and down on Roderich's dick. I couldn't even keep my mouth shut from the way I kept moaning Roderich's name. It was like I was chanting.

"Roderich! The... ah! The cock ring- gods Roderich! Roderich!"

"I know... it will be taken- oh lord! It will be taken off when... I feel like it..." He interrupted. The pace of his thrusts picked up. His hips slapped into mine, almost bruising me. It was amazing how pleasurable being the aristocrat's ragdoll could be. I kept begging for him to take it off, but he ignored my cries. The brunette gave a final shove into me before cumming. I whined, bouncing on his still half hard cock to try to get some release. Roderich immediately unlatched the ring that imprisoned my cock and gave me two quick strokes. My cum gushed out in thick globs. I shook violently, unable to stop my body from quaking so badly. When my orgasm was through, I immediately passed out in Roderich's arms. ***** **

The sun was shining when I woke up. I lay naked on the bed, facing Roderich. The other was sitting upright, using the headboard and two pillows as support. He was reading _The Heart of Darkness_ by Joseph Conrad. He looked into my blood red orbs and smiled.

"My goodness, you slept longer than I thought you would." Roderich placed a bookmarker inside it and gently placed the book on top of the nightstand. I yawned.

"Well I didn't know that someone got freaky when it came to the bedroom." I laughed. The aristocrat blushed but didn't object to my statement.

"You didn't seem to mind." He grumbled. I laughed even harder and sat up next to him. I whimpered slightly because a shot of pain ran through me when I sat down but it grew dull once I stayed that way for a couple of minutes. My head rested against his left shoulder while his right hand started stroking my hair. If someone were to look at us, it probably would have appeared that we were having a loving moment.

"Roderich," I began but I realized I had forgotten my question.

"Hm, what is it Gilbert?"

"Your family is known for liking the classics but you buy my modern art pieces. So tell me, what is your actual preference?" It was a good question to ask. The future duke wouldn't try to buy any of my artwork he's seen just to pursue me.

"I like realism. Yes, the stuff that you don't usually do. I think it is because it is relatable to me. I run my life in a realistic manner and I do not expect something like romance or other illusions to come into my life." It was creepy how Edelstein said all that so calmly. I wanted to protest that love wasn't an illusion but I knew that I had no evidence of it. I've never been in love, but I still believe it.

"How boring, I wouldn't like to run my life that way. There's no excitement or surprise." I sighed. Roderich cocked his right eyebrow and pointed out "Isn't what we're doing both realistic and exciting? Over half of the people who were in a monogamous relationship had cheated on a partner sometime in their life. But you can't deny that this situation is not exactly safe."

"I guess..." The sound of a doorbell rang through the house.

"We better get dressed, it is Elizaveta." I froze.

"What are we going to do? I don't even have a shirt!" I yelled. He just rolled his eyes at me and said "She doesn't visit for long, just hide in my closet." I nodded, grabbed my pants (I wore no underwear again), and dashed into the closet. I steadied my breathing, but my heart pounded in my chest. What if I were caught? What would the young lady do? Would she tear my limbs off and throw me into a pit full of hungry wolves? Shove me into wall and merciless beat me until there was no evidence of me? Or would she do the worst, which was break down and cry?

I could hear the doorbell ring again. Roderich was probably fully dressed because I could hear him walk calmly out of the room and down the stairs. There was silence. Silence usually meant peace but my heart didn't believe that. My mind was now free to think terrifying scenarios that were impossible in real life, but not in my thoughts. It wasn't until I heard Elizaveta Hedervary's laugh did I calm my body. I pressed my ear against the closet door and listened closely.

"Oh that is like you Roderich, to sit in bed all day and read. You always loved to read but you grew obsessed with it once you had that riding accident."

"Well, I never really enjoyed watching television and I was confined to that wheelchair for over twelve weeks. There was really nothing to do, since you didn't visit as often." Roderich explained.

"Oh I know dear, and I am still sorry about-"

"Elizaveta, you never need to be sorry about your actions in life. Anything that you have done to me is nothing that I have done to you." I twitched when he said that. Had he no shame? Why was he bringing that subject up with her?

"But I forgive you for all those things. You've really changed Roderich and I'm thankful for that." I could hear her voice slightly breaking, like she was almost about to cry. My heart ached for her. The woman believed that this fantasy that she always wanted was coming to life, and yet she couldn't be farther from the truth...

"Please do not cry-"

"But I'm crying because I'm so happy. I know you may not love me the way I love you now, but if you are willing to not let yourself stray... it shows that you are willing to try. Oh my, I think I better go. I just wanted to stop by and see you before I go to work at the hospital. I'm so happy that I get to start my life as an Otolaryngologist. Though, I pretty sure it will be quite awkward to see with my own eyes all the things that children will try to shove up their nose..."

"Hm... I am glad that you are happy Elizaveta. Let me walk you to the door." I hid in the closet, even when I knew they were out of the bedroom. I felt terrible that she was betrayed and I was the one who was allowing it to happen. Yet even though I felt ill about the ordeal, I didn't want to stop this arrangement I had with Roderich. Was West right? Was their an addiction one developed when they had sex with someone, even if it was only twice? More importantly, was it more powerful that my beliefs and wants?

End of Chapter 10

Wow I feel like a jackass to be still rooting for Prussia/Austria. DX But this is a Prussia/Austria fanfic so... that's just how it's going to be.

Read and review please! I've loved seeing how everyone feels about the fic so far.


	11. Something New

Whoot, thanks for the reviews so far! ^_^ And hopefully I am able to keep up with these speedy updates. O_o Biochemistry has been quite a pain on my side lately. It has made me stay away from my computer to write fanfics. Thank goodness I like science otherwise I would be so pissed off. XD

Warnings: OOC, Rating will go up, and Yaoi

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. Rembrandt's "The Storm on the Sea of Galilee" was actually stolen from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum of Boston, Massachusetts. I don't think it has ever been in Austria, but I like the piece.  
2. Even shorter chapter than usual for some reason. It's a boring day for the two.**

Chapter 11

"Goodness, don't you use a napkin while you eat?" Roderich sighed, rubbing pastry crumbs off both of my pant legs in a sweeping motion. The little shavings would land into the brunette's other hand that formed a small cup so that they may be thrown in a proper garbage can.

"No, never have and I never will. But if you keep brushing like that and a little higher-"

"Stop saying such atrocious things, it is inappropriate!" He snapped with a flushed face. "Why are you even here? I told you I'm doing work at home and can't have sexual intercourse today. There is nothing for you here."

"There's nothing for me at home either. I am done with all twelve sculptures for Antonio's show that is three days from now and I've practiced this cello piece for Antonio's birthday like, ten times! Way too many times for a prodigy like me, I'm the master of the cello. It's so hard to be so entertained when you're so awesome sometimes." I complained. The aristocrat rolled his eyes at me and said "Please, you are far from the definition of awesome or any synonym. I bet that your appearances here are only driven by your hunger for pastries, which you seem to enjoy wolfing down after sex." It is true, I do enjoy Roderich's cooking. The man is picky about the quality of his ingredients and takes considerable amounts of time to prepare them. But his tasty snacks aren't the reason why I like to stay in his home.

"Che, I'm awesome and you know it. Do I have to act out you in bed when I'm on top? Yes Gilbert, yes! Harder, harder, harder, harder!" I grinned. The brunette aristocrat blushed and grumbled something about vulgar things are an exception in bed.

"I hope you can busy yourself and not leave everything in my house in disarray. I'm going to work through my laptop in my study." I was surprised.

"I've never seen this study of yours." I pointed out to him. The wealthy boy shrugged and held his hand out for me to grab. I pulled myself up with his hand and followed him. We walked into his stark white kitchen and to the random bookshelf past the kitchen. He pulled a slanted, dark indigo book with no title or printing whatsoever on it, off the middle shelf and opened it. It was hollowed out and the only thing that lay in the book was a large, circular button. When the wealthy man pushed it, the wall of books moved back into the darkness of the room that it concealed. Roderich moved to the side and bowed similar to an older gentleman would to a lady. I took this as a signal that I should go first and stolled into the dark. The other stepped twice and the room was bathed in light.

I saw the tracks that the bookshelf must have slid on to move back to the other wall. This room was different from the others in the future duke's house. The floors were a golden tan color, almost the same color as his violin. I looked to the right and saw two work desks. One was an antique with elaborate carvings of crosses, flowers, and other intricate shapes. The older looking furniture had a rich, chocolate brown wood that must have been glossed multiple times throughout its life because it had an unnatural way of reflecting the light. The other was plain and had nothing but black paint. They were polar opposites and clashed just being placed next to each other. The office chairs were exactly the same for both tables. Both black leather chairs were fixed on wheels and the only thing different about the two were the height adjustments.

I glanced over to the left side and saw a small closet and bathroom. The bathroom wasn't as luxurious or as grand in size, as the one in the aristocrat's bed chamber. In fact, it looked more like something that I was accustomed to having. It had plain, sky blue tiles with a white sink, vanity, and toilet. The shower was white as well but its door was clear glass. The glass didn't even provide any coverage or privacy, it might as well have been a transparent shower curtain. At least with the curtain the diaphonous folds would apply some distortion to the image of the bather.

The closet had no door and displayed all of its contents in full view. There were three suits that were all black in color. They were corbon copies of one another, even down to the small details such as the gold cufflinks and the cut of the pants. But those weren't the only clothes in the closet. There were dress shirts, all bepatched or tattered in some way.

"Hey prissy, what is with the hobo get up next to the ugly suits?" I asked, curious why such a rich man would keep such things.

"Sometimes I fall asleep down here after working for so long. By the time I wake up it is almost time for me to leave so I grab clothes from that closet. It is good for those few occasions." He explained.

"Wait, you actually wear those clothes?"

"Yes, they may be worn out from use, but to throw them away would be wasteful. Since I wear jackets all the time at work, I only have to make sure the collars are still in good condition." He answered as he walked to the antique table that contrained his laptop in one of its drawers.

"Why are they down here?" After all, this room didn't look like it was built for that purpose. The closet looked as if it were crammed in there at the last second.

"Elizaveta doesn't think I should hang on to damaged items such as those clothes Since she does not know about my office here at the house, I store them here. Why the sudden fascination in my wardrobe?" He asked. I stalked over to the closet to get a slower look at them. There were elbow tears in most of them, sections that were replaced with cloth of similar colors (but never seemed to match the original), and shirts so worn that they could almost be mistaken for fishnets. I fingered them with slight disgust. Why did Roderich allow such things to touch his body? Things like this touch his skin, and I touch his skin often (more attention paid to that mole and haircurl), and so if we go by logic, those disgusting clothes have also touched my awesome. The not only touched it they rubbed against it, were inside it... gods that was horrifying.

It was also terrifying when I thought of what Roderich looked like in these clothes without the ugly suits, all patched and strange looking like a homeless man. It emflamed me for some reason.

"Your fiance is right Roddy, you need to trash this stuff." I announced after my inspection and started throwing clothes onto the floor around me. The pile on the floor grew big quickly. Roderich ran up to the other side of the room quickly. He got right behind me and gripped both of my biceps to try to immobilize me.

"Idiot, what do you think you are doing?" He spat.

"I'm doing you a favor. Can you believe Lord Awesome is cleaning out your closet for you?" I chuckled.

"Pick them up!" Roderich yelled. I shifted my shoulders and struggled to finally get him off. Once I had gotten that accomplished, I continued my task of emptying his closet of tattered up clothing.

"Why are you doing this?" He asked with an angry tone in his voice. I thought about his answer and was shocked with my own answer.

"You deserve better..." I mumbled.

"What did you say Gilbert?" Roderich gasped. He couldn't believe it either.

"You deserve better." I repeated. We gazed into each other's eyes, as if asking what had just happened. When we realized how long we were staring, we blushed and turned our attention to the floor. It was odd to be so uncomfortable to talk to the other. I had allowed him to see my body, to tame it, and yet I couldn't look him in the eye after admitting that I thought well of him. Was it taboo to not hate him?

"Thank you Gilbert... please get a garbage bag in the kitchen to put this pile in. If you are going to dispose of my garments, do so in a more orderly fashion." He said with a small smile.

"You won't fight for them?"

"No... I will just move some of my clothes from the closet upstairs to down here. You can even toss the suits if you wish." I nodded. The rest of the day ended up pretty quiet after that moment. I filled a large trash bag with the aristobrat's clothes while Roderich did his work. There were only the sounds of his fingers pressing into the keyboard, typing whatever the aristocrat desired to express in emails and other documents, and his clothes dropping into the bag. It was odd how bonding the occasion was. This day of no sex and just being near another person. It's like we know each other on the level of people, not sex toys or play things.

I went into the restroom to see if there was another trash bag in there. I checked under the sink, and when I glanced at the vanity mirror, I found a post-it note on it. _Five days, see Opera with Elizaveta and Family._

"Roderich!" I called out.

"Yes Gilbert?"

"Do you still neet this note on the mirror?"

"Oh yes, I just put that up there this morning."

"Che, what a boring plan for a night out. Why would anyone want to go to the opera?"

"I find it a delight."

"Whatever," I shrugged and remembered something.

_Third rule is that you will not become a personal friend to anyone in my family. I don't want to see you at dinners, outings, or anything that I do with my family._ I heard that rule before, before I even met Roderich face to face. Who else knows those rules? I thought about all the lovers that were tied to Roderich. Suddenly I remembered Arthur. The English man would know the rules, he's a reporter after all. It was only a matter of time before he would catch the pattern of my behavior and see it wasn't normal.

"Oh crap... crap, crap, crap..." I groaned.

"Did you hurt youself? There are bandages and other things under the sink to take care of those things." Roderich suggested.

"No... god why did you have to sleep with someone from the press?" I sighed.

"What are you talking about Gilbert?" He said, irritated with my behavior.

"You had sex with Arthur Kirkland, right? Come on, I know you're not too old to forget names right? You're only twenty-eight now come on, think, think!"

"Oh him, yes I remember him. The man calls himself an English gentleman, polite at work and scandalous when drunk. He has prominent eyebrows but very nice green eyes. It was such an odd combination but at least he kept the thick eyebrows in a trimmed fashion. What about the man?" Roderich asked for he was still confused about our situation.

"Did you tell him the rules you told me?"

"Yes, but why would that matter? I tell them to anyone that I try to pursue a relationship with."

"Stupid! Roddy don't you see? Arthur is not only a reporter but also my friend, sooner or later he's going to be on to us and our behavior. He knows the rules! This is why he knows when you're cheating and catches you so easily. Argh!" I growled. He just raised his right eyebrow at me. Perhaps I was overreacting, but I couldn't help it. I was new to this creepy, sneaky, affair stuff!

"Ah yes, I would rather my family not learn of another affair through the press. What do you propose we do?"

"One of your rules is that I can't hang out with your family or get close to them. But what about if I just hang out with them? Only to the point that they know who I am. This will be a big enough break in the pattern that will throw off the trail." I advocated.

"So you wish to go to the opera with my family in a weird kind of... secretive group date of sorts?" My heart skipped when he mentioned the word date. Why did that happen? Perhaps I was getting sick from eating too many sweets.

In fact I realized I was acting very out of character. Usually I would be in Salzburg painting until one in the afternoon and arrive home at three. Some days when I wasn't in the zone or was bored out of my mind, I would hang out with my friends at restaurants, clubs, and other events. Now here I was, in one of the most wealthiest men in all of Europe's home. Well, it was Roderich's home, not mine. This wasn't a home. This was a townhouse that I went to when I wanted hot, steamy sex. Sex with a man that was going to be married... gods I really am getting ill. Why am I not torturing myself over this dilemma?

"No, you'll be going with you girlfriend. I'm just the artist that you befriended. We bonded while I was doing your portrait." I said softly, still in shock about my thoughts. Roderich nodded and went back to his paperwork.

"How is the painting doing?"

"What?"

"The painting Gilbert, how is my wedding present from my father progressing?" He asked.

"It's okay... I haven't touched the paints yet but I just want to make sure I make it accurate. After all, the duke would probably be upset that his only son's wedding portrait immortalized his head looking a little lopsided." I laughed. Roderich chuckled as well.

"Yes, my father Charles is a finicky person. He can still remember this Rembrandt that his family used to own. He can still recall the title exactly, eithout fumbling at all. _The Storm on the Sea of Galilee_, hahaha, yes I have heard him repeat it to me multiple times."

"Wow, that's a long title for a piece of art. Most of my pieces, I just give a random word for a title and let the critics decide how I came up with that name." I joked. We both laughed, almost hysterically. When the laughter died down,

"Now I'm sorry, but you have to leave. You are far too distracting to me." Roderich commanded.

"Che, is it because I'm ultra sexy?" I said, wiggling my eyebrows in a seductive manner. He chuckled and said "No, it's your personality that is distracting. Why don't you go home and work on the painting? You don't seem to get much progress done around my presence either."

"I thought that was because I'm too busy shoving my cock into-"

"Don't say such things, those are only for the bedroom!" Roderich gasped. I laughed at the young man and his flustered face. His cheeks were bright red, the same color as a rose. Edelstein's violet eyes were intense, not the same way as they were when he was sexually aroused, but they had an amazing glow to them. Roderich's nose also seemed cuter, for it looked almost as small as a button the way he pointed his face downward to the floor. The brunette would even get pidgeon toed with his posture, as if indulging in a childish behavior that he had tried to severe away from. Everything about his anger was adorable. If I didn't know myself better, I would think that I was gushing over the future duke.

I froze, as if a curtain of paralysis was thrown on me. This wasn't right... this isn't happening...

"Gilbert, are you okay? Would you like to lay down upstairs?"

"No... I'm okay..." I was lying. Fuck, I can't believe that I let it happen to me!

I'm in love with Edelstein...

End of Chapter 11

Hurray Gilbert! You admit it! Not out loud of course, but it's a good first step. Sigh. Now you just have to deal with the fiance, scandal, and all that stuff... _ Yeah, Prussia has a long uphill battle here. Especially since he has a conscience and all, damn things, they just get in the way of precious yaoi.

Read and review please!


	12. A Side Pairing Chapter

Lol, my teacher read this story and actually likes it! XD My teacher is a man and he's married. Hahahaha, I don't know if this is funny or freaky.

England/France chapter! A lot of the side pairings get at least half a chapter dedicated to them... which is probably why the story is about four or five chapters longer than it is supposed to be. Grah... and I'm not even a huge fan of this pairing, my friend Ryogama is! If she doesn't like this chapter I'm so strangling her.

BTW- As a reward for being patient and waiting, I will write a oneshot for the 50th reviewer and also one to the person who has been constantly review my story, **Phamenia**! If you are the 50th review I will contact you and ask you what your restrictions are on the oneshot. **Phamenia**, just tell me in your review if you want a oneshot written and what you want it to be about!

Just so you know, I will continue to do this for every fifty reviews. I think you guys deserve it after reading my horrible writing. XD But still, I'm still in awe that people like this idea so much. But that doesn't mean I'm not grateful! I'm just in shock is all.

Warnings: OOC, Yaoi, and Bad writing

Summary: AU, Prussia is a famous artist who has become attracted to one of the wealthy aristocrats that bought his artwork.

Main Pairing: Prussia/Austria

Side Pairings: Russia/America, England/France, Germany/N. Italy, Spain/S. Italy, and Switzerland/Liechtenstein

Mentioned Pairings: Prussia/Hungary, Prussia/Poland, Russia/Prussia, Switzerland/Japan, Almost Everyone/Austria, and Poland/Hungary

**NOTES FOR THIS CHAPTER  
1. If you don't like FrUk, I would suggest not reading this chapter... Also if you don't want to read a fluffy, not really plot related chapter you probably won't like this one either. Sorry!  
****2. If you are the 50th reviewer, please don't torture me and ask for a Russia/His sisters story please. I can't write it, I'm sorry! But other than that, no other restrictions!  
3. Le Ciel is a lovely restaurant in Austria that is located in Grand Hotel Wien. Nice place and if you are ever in Vienna please visit it.**

Chapter 12**  
**

Francis hummed softly to himself as he made delicate crepes for breakfast. He wonderfully did this task every morning to treat his English rose to a proper breakfast. Thin, light, and most importantly, delicious food that Arthur should ingest every day. The French man shuddered when he rememberd the burnt, heavy scones that his lover made for him. He didn't know how the English man accomplished it, but Arthur was able to make them dark, burnt, and solid as rock on the outside yet gushy and uncooked on the inside. It was more fowl tasting than when Francis himelf, accidentally added too much saffron to his shrimp and the buds on his tongue couldn't get rid of the taste for the rest of the day.

"Hm... ah Francis! You don't even have your underwear on!" The French man chuckled at Arthur.

"What is wrong with that? The Greeks were bare when they participated during the Olympics. Then there is the Statue of David, Michelangelo's greatest masterpiece, is one of the most famous pieces of art of all time and it too is naked. There is nothing wrong with nudity my love."

"Yes, but neither of the things you listed involed cooking in my kitchen. It's horrifying to see your pale arse in the sunlight." Arthur groaned using his hands to cover his eyes. Francis frowned.

"You didn't mind looking at it last night when you were-"

"I know, I know, I'm just kidding." The short haired blonde placed a soft kiss on the corner of Francis' lips. The French man sighed and muttered something about the other being too cruel to him. They held each other in a loose embrace. Arthur's fingertips lightly danced on the surface of his boyfriend's bare backside while Francis enjoyed the smell of Arthur's new shampoo.

"I better get back to the crepes dear." Francis said.

"Can't they wait a couple more minutes?"

"No my love, otherwise they will burn." They pulled apart. Arthur sat at the dining table where his newspaper was.

"Oh, I got a text from Alfred earlier this morning."

"Really, what did your little brother tell you?" Francis asked as he scooped out apple filling he made for the crepes.

"He complained about going to some auction that he went to that was selling some of Gilbert's things. All of them were bought by one person while he left empty handed." Arthur explained.

"Who bought them all? Surely they must be famous if they're wealthy enough to purchase all of Gilbert's pieces at a show."

"We don't know who bought them all for a man was hired to bid for the person. The identity isn't revealed to anyone but the auction house employees."

"How odd, is that even legal to do that? Can you make someone take your place at an auction and bid for you?" Francis asked curiously.

"A lot of rich men and women do that all the time at those kinds of events. It's usually for those times when they can't attend in person because they have business, charity events, or are even on vacation. Still, it is unusual that comeone would buy all of them." Francis smiled and placed breakfast on the dining table. "Well Arthur, we'll just ask Gilbert to make a piece especially for Alfred. In fact, that would make a great birthday present idea. Now, why don't we forget that and eat. We have a big day ahead of us!"

"What do you mean? I'm staying in and catching up on my sleep. After Antonio's fashion show just a couple days ago, work, and all the love making, I am exhausted!" Arthur laughed.

"No, we're going to stroll around the park, eat at Le Ciel's, and see La Boheme." Francis gushed.

"When did I agree to that?" Arthur asked cocking his right eyebrow.

"You promised me three weeks ago darling. Com on, we haven't had a proper date for almost two months. We are always with out friends and I want some quality alone time with you. Besides, we already have reservations at Le Ciel's and I have the tickets to La Boheme! Now, come on my English rose, finish your breakfast so we can get dressed and go to the zoo at Schonbrunn Palace." Francis said and kissed his lover on the cheek. Arthur sighed but didn't protest.

"You do know that I could be making another cool million by getting snap shots of Roderich Edelstein with his new lover?"

"Arthur, he is not seeing someone. It is just in your head, after all, he promised his fiance publicly that he wouldn't." Francis laughed.

"But I think he's following the rules again. It's how I found the other ones you know." Arthur pointed out.

"Well, it won't kill you to leave the man alone for today and try to catch him in the act tomorrow. Come on, eat!" Francis yelled in a joking tone. Both laughed and continued their delicious meal. Arthur tried to eat like a gentleman and take small bites, but it was difficult with his French lover's cooking. The buds on his tongue were excited by the simple flavors of the fresh apples with the touches of sugar and cinnamon. When he heard Francis chuckle at him, Arthur realized that he let out an accidental groan escape his mouth.

"You are so adorable Arthur. If you think that my cooking is good, I can't wait for you to see the food at Le Ciel's."

"You're cooking's okay..." The English man grumbled, still embarrassed.

"Yes, it is certainly better than what those boys eat in La Boheme!" Francis cried out dramatically. Arthur shook his head. They had been dating for over a year and yet the other man's antics were still odd to him.

"What is La Boheme anyway?" The short haired man sighed.

"It's this wonderful opera! These boys who live in the 1800s in Paris-"

"Paris Francis?"

"Yes, why?" The French man snapped. Arthur laughed.

"So typical of you. Alright, well I do have a soft spot for plays and operas. I think I'll like it... even if it is about the French." Francis slapped his boyfriend on the shoulders and continued eating. Arthur just laughed harder at his lover's actions and went back to eating as well. Once the meal was done, both got dressed into what they thought of was "casual clothing." Francis though sighed when he saw how dark his boyfriend's outfit was.

"Is that amount of black rather necessary Arthur? My goodness, and here I thought my little English punk was rehabilitated."

"It's not a lot, my shirt has a lot of white on it. My watch and other accessories are silver too, not black." Arthur said defending himself. Francis sighed but knew he couldn't change his boyfriend's mind. The two blondes walked out the door, making sure the lock the door behind them. Since the weather was warmer out today, the two decided to just walk to the zoo instead of drive. It was awkward for both of them to hold hands. Their relationship wasn't what most would consider normal. In fact, there were days that they forgot why they loved each other so much. Fights and brawls were about half of the things that occupied their time together, yet some how all of those problems worked themselves out.

They weren't the lovey-dovey couple either. Sure, Francis would be dramatic at times and maybe grope Arthur once or twice during the day, but he didn't do sweet things like throwing his arm around or kiss the English man on the cheek.

"This was probably a bad idea, isn't it Arthur?"

"Well, I don't really mind it." The short haired blonde blushed.

"We can still walk back to the house-"

"Francis, don't be so scared. Gosh, you really a French man. A coward when it comes to anything strange to you." Arthur laughed. Francis started chuckling as well and both picked up the pace. Soon they were at the zoo, meandering around the paths to see all the animals.

"Look at the baby elephants Arthur! They're so adorable!"

"Francis, I'm not blind! I can clearly see them." The English man huffed. Francis laughed and pulled him close. Usually Arthur would protest and call the other the pervert, but today he decided to let it go. It was okay as long as their friends weren't witnessing.

"Arthur, it's already four! We have to get back to the house and get dressed into different clothes! Le Ciel won't accept us in this hobo get-up!" Francis gasped after he glanced at his watch. Arthur rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Speak for yourself, I am not dressed like a hobo."

"Ah... no comment on that Arthur."

"Hey!" The English gasped and punched his boyfriend on the shoulder. The two went back to their condominium shortly after that, dressing in more formal clothes. Francis smiled when he saw that Arthur still wore the silver accessories that the English man wore earlier at the zoo. If he remembered correctly, there was a saying that went along the lines of "Taking the boy out of the punk era, but you can't take the punk out of the boy."

But the French man didn't mind, he found many of the unusual things about Arthur intriguing. The English man is a connoisseur when it came to tea, despite his harsh appearing personality. Arthur also enjoyed embroidery which the English man was also good at. Whether the subject matter was cherubs, flowers, or fancy lettering, the thick eyebrowed man could embroider it with amazing detail. The short haired blonde also has an erogenous zone on the back of his left hand, and whenever Francis gently rubbed his thumb over it the other blonde would jump him and crush their lips together.

"What are you staring at idiot?" Arthur snapped, embarrassed at the attention paid to him.

"Oh nothing my rose, your tie is just not done correctly." The wavy haired blonde said and fixed it for Arthur. He made to spend as much time as he could adjusting the jade colored tie, liking the oddly intimate time he was getting with Arthur. His forearms resting against the other's chest was an unusual thing. Usually the French man's arm would rest against the cool sheets underneath them whenever they were having sex.

"Thanks," The English man said, blushing a little. Francis nodded and they went out the door. Because they didn't leave the zoo early enough, both men had to take Francis' car in order to make it on time to their reservation.

"I think think it's funny that a French man is driving an Aston Martin."

"Oh behave you!" Francis huffed. The couple got to the restaurant with record time.

Le Ciel is a place as elegant and as magnificent as it sounds. When they entered a tan room, there was nothing but a lone man standing behind a podium made of dark, cherry wood. To the man's right was not a wall, but a large, chocolate brown curtain that seemed to be covering something.

"Do you have a reservation?" The man asked.

"Yes, it should be under the name Bonnefoy." Francis said. The man behind the podium found their name and went to the drawstring of the large curtain.

"Please enjoy yourselves at Le Ciel gentlemen." And the curtains rushed to the right to reveal the elegant dining room. The beige walls reflected the golden color of the several statues, picture frames, and tables. There were large windows to the right let the sunlight cascade all throughout the room, making everything shimmer. The only thing that obscured the light were the many waiters dressed in formal attire that were pushing several oak carts around, all of them full of various types of small portioned foods.

Oak chairs had plush cushions decorated with floral lace and antique colors. But it wasn't just the chairs that appeared to have age, the cloth that covered the tables and the coasters was the same beige color of the walls and was made of delicate Chantilly lace. Ivory plates lay empty in front of the oak chairs on the table and beside them was a folded napkin containing the necessary forks, knives, and spoons that were needed for eating.

"This is all quite nice, are you sure we can eat at such a place?" Arthur asked.

"Arthur, not every country is as expensive as England when it comes to the dining experience. Besides, why are you questioning about affordability? You are a millionaire silly boy." Francis chuckled.

"Just because I'm a millionaire, that doesn't mean that I don't like to save money." Both stopped talking to look at the menu. The only communication they had was cupping each other's hands.

Francis was beginning to love the feeling of his slender hand against Arthur's callused one. He was starting to think that these little affectionate touches should be shared between them more often.

"Hello gentlemen, would you like anything to drink? We have an excellent selection of wine." A waiter asked.

"No, I will just have water." Francis said. Arthur gasped and said above a whisper "Oh my goodness, mark the calenders!" All three laughed at the English man's remark.

"How about you sir?"

"I will have water as well." Arthur said. The waiter wrote it down on a small notepad and ran back to the kitchens.

"Why aren't you getting any wine?" The English man asked.

"I don't want to be intoxicated in any way before we go to the opera. It's not considered a good thing when a museum curator shows up red in the face and clinging to his sober boyfriend for support as he hobbles in." Arthur laughed.

"True, but it's not like you are a lush. You hold your liquor quite well... for a frog of course."

"I'm just going to ignore that one. But really, aren't you glad that you spent today like this instead of stalking the duke's son?" Francis said.

"I guess... still, the cost of living keeps getting higher and I don't want to be old and still working." Arthur sighed. The waiter came back with two glasses full of water.

"Have you decided on what to order?"

"Yes, I will have the Veal tenderloin with lobster and forest mushroom risotto." Francis said and handed the waiter his menu.

"I will have the Sea bass with artichokes, dates, and thyme glaze." The waiter nodded and took Arthur's menu as well. Once he did, the nameless man walked away, both French and English men losing sight of him in the sea of moving carts.

"Alright, so after this we're going straight to the opera?" Arthur asked. Francis nodded.

"Yes, we won't make it to the seven-thirty showing if we go back to changed. We'll just have to deal with the thought of being slightly under dressed for the occasion. But hey, Armani isn't exactly a casual brand." Once they had gotten their food, the two blondes barely paid attention to it. They continued joking, laughing, debating, but their mouths did everything but chew. Barely a fourth of their food was even gone when it finally became seven at night.

"We really should get going Arthur."

"Yeah, come on, I'll just leave a hundred on the table. It should cover our meals and tip." The English man said and threw down a few bills to pay for their food. Francis and Arthur dashed out of the restaurant and into the car. Both of them practically raced each other to the car, laughing merrily at each other. The English man just beat his French lover, his leaner form giving him the slight edge.

"I'll get you next time!"

"You wish Frenchie!" Arthur cried. Thankfully this bit of immaturity toned down once they had gotten to the opera house. Perhaps it was dim lighting of the street lamps or the statue of the large, dark horse and his master that looked as if it were about to take flight, but for some reason, the building seemed more enchanting at night. Even the intricate detail of the rectangular pillars had not dark shadows, but ones that appeared to be made of silver. Many beautiful men and women in their best black attire were calmly walking up the steps to the entrance, some of them famous celebrities that were getting the paparazzi cameras flashing with every step they took. Yet no one could deny that the biggest and brightest star tonight was the opera house. Francis whistled in awe.

The inside was even more elegant and charming than the outside. A warm, orange and gold glow from the large chandeliers reflected off the neutral beige walls. The only thing that didn't sparkle under the aristocratic lighting was the patterned carpet. Both blondes felt as if they had stepped back in time, back when there were true aristocracy and grandeur.

"Come on Arthur, we should find our seats."

"Yeah... wow, this place never... ceases to make me speechless..." Francis smiled and grabbed Arthur's right hand to lead him to their seats. They were sitting in one of the many private boxes that sat only ten people.

"We're the first here, I wonder if we're going to sit next to any celebrities!" The French man gasped.

"Well, is a famous duke named Charles Edelstein a big enough celebrity for you my good man?" A deep voice said from behind. Both blonde men turned to see that indeed, Charles Edelstein was right behind them. The duke was dressed in a black tuxedo, with a white dress shirt that had multiple cascading ruffles. If the aristocrat had a petite frame, he probably could have pulled it off but his broad shoulders got in the way. Next to him was his lovely wife Zita in a form fitting, navy blue dress that showed she was still just as beautiful as she was when the duke married her. Behind the elder couple was their son Roderich, Roderich's fiance Elizaveta, and a familiar face...

"Gilbert what are you doing here?" Arthur blurted out. The albino man blushed.

End of Chapter 12

Lolz, poor Gilbert can't get a break. Again, sorry about the late update and review please! Thank you!


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